


Of Vikings and thieves

by Casioblancas



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Gen, Heist fic, Not Really Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-06-20 21:35:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 32,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15542631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casioblancas/pseuds/Casioblancas
Summary: What Lupin claimed would be a simple job goes south, and Jigen has the feeling he's not seeing the full picture





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I've written since middle school, and the very first fanwork of any kind so I'm using it to get back into writing ! Let me know about any spelling mistakes or weird sentences etc, and pls comment and tell me what you thought!

”There have been a lot of rumours surrounding the object through the years, especially since its very existence up until now has been thought to have been strictly legend rather than fact. The powers it is thought to wield range from making its user strong as fifteen men to good old immortality. Still not a hundred percent sure on that point but I am, like, ninety eight percent sure the thing itself is real. At least real enough for the President to have found it just outside of this town, which is why we are here now in ‘the city of students’ as the locals call it! Anyway, hurry up and get dressed in your Sunday best guys, we’ve gotta move now!” Lupin rambled it all out in one breath as he stuffed one gun into his shoulder holster and another down the back of his pants. 

Behind him Jigen looked up from his reclined position on the sofa not having absorbed all the information yet. It’s just like Lupin to drag everyone with him to some new place without any explanation whatsoever until it suited him. 

“Huh? We’re leaving now? Hey Lupin, give a guy some time to get ready, asshole!” 

Already halfway through the door of their hotel room Lupin didn’t even bother looking back at him, but rather threw a hand up over his shoulder and waved absently in the air at Jigen’s remark. 

“How much time do you need Jigen? You’re already dressed, just grab your Walther and your hat then meet me in the garage. And try to pull Goemon out of his mind searching, there’s a good boy!” 

And then he was in the hallway and Jigen didn’t feel like shouting at four in the morning which would probably wake up the neighbours, who’d file a complaint, which potentially could draw unwanted attention to them. They’d done so well so far in making it through almost the entirety of Europe in the tiny Fiat all the way to Sweden without Zenigata following them. It’d be a shame to break that streak now. And even if it weren’t for him they still had reason to lay low. The President, as he was called, was not some run of the mill criminal, hence why Lupin had called for Goemon for this job. 

Jigen grit his teeth as he had to put these things together himself so last minute. If only Lupin would talk to them! The most frustrating thing about that guy is how him this behaviour is. It’s not that he doesn’t trust his partners, he’s just like that. Expecting everyone to happily follow him, or come running whenever he calls. Like dogs. 

Jigen harrumphed at his last thought. It’s not like he’d never been called a dog by their adversaries before, but it’s one thing to be called something, and another to feel like it. 

He rose from the sofa making sure to do it as noisily as possible, then roughly grabbed his hat and gun from the side table. Better to get this annoyance out of his system now rather than on the job. 

Hat on his head and gun in his hand he turned to the wall opposite the door. Two big windows that could’ve displayed a beautiful view did not. The room they stayed in was almost in perfect alignment with the roof of the opposite building. He could just barely see over it, but there wasn’t much to see. The river flowing through the city lay in that direction, and on the other side of it were the castle, church and university library. He looked down at the floor under the windows instead where Goemon was sat with his legs crossed and head bowed in meditation. 

“Oy, Goemon.” He said and nudged Goemon’s knee with his foot. “We’re moving. Lupin’s getting the car.” 

Goemon sat completely still for another long moment before cracking an eye open and peering up at Jigen through his fringe. Then he opened the other eye and really looked at Jigen. 

“I find that peace of mind helps my mental health as well as physical performance. My longstanding offer to teach you the basics of meditation remains open, but for now I believe it’s best if you simply smoke a cigarette.” He calmly said, maintaining eye contact the entire time. 

What? Did Goemon just passively tell Jigen to chill out? Was it that obvious how irritable he felt? He didn’t grace the statement with an answer as he’d just say something that proved how right Goemon was about his current state of mind. So sue him! It was four in the morning, they’d just arrived not more than forty five minutes earlier after having been on the road for a solid week, he was hungry, tired, it was cold outside and Lupin had just dropped a hint as to why they were there in the first place. A hint, still without any real explanation. 

Goemon smoothly stood up from his position on the floor and moved towards the door as if nothing had happened. Jigen grumpily followed him out and locked the door when they left the hotel room. 

As much as he hated to admit it even to himself, the kid was not wrong. A cigarette was exactly what he needed right now. He’d have smoked as soon as they’d set foot in the building if it weren’t for the no smoking indoors rule of the hotel. A lot of places in this country were like that from what he’d heard, even at bus stops and crowded public places in general where it wasn’t technically forbidden it was still heavily frowned upon to smoke. What a nightmare. It’s not usually his style to follow the rules, but they were trying to lay low and smoking in a no-smoking hotel in the middle of the night might provoke some unwanted reactions. He could imagine it, someone smelling it in their sleep and waking up in a panic yelling Fire! He really missed Croatia right about now, they did not discriminate against smokers nearly as much.

As they exited the hotel, the Fiat, parked squarely in a no parking zone with Lupin leaning on it, was the scene that greeted them. He’d lit a cigarette and smoked peacefully which reminded Jigen to pull one out of his own pack. As soon as he’d put it between his lips a hand with a lighter whipped out and lit it for him. He glanced up at Lupin who gave him a friendly grin. After that first drag and lungful of calming smoke he felt much better. Maybe Lupin acted like a whole ass sometimes but he had his moments. 

“You guys take longer than Fujiko!” 

Moment passed. Just get into the car. 

They all folded themselves into the cramped space once again, Lupin in the drivers seat, Jigen in the passenger seat and Goemon in the back. They drove out of the very centre of the city towards the outskirts. Not until they reached an area dense with factories and devoid of night owls did Lupin finally start to talk. 

“I’ve learned from a reliable source that the President has situated himself along with a minimally sized group of henchmen in what is called Old Town just outside of the city close to old burial grounds. Supposedly the artefact he, and we, are after was buried in one of the graves as an item the deceased would want to take to the afterlife. So, our plan is simple: sneak up on them and snatch it after they’ve done the heavy lifting. Lifting all the dirt with shovels, that is.” 

Lupin looked pleased as he kept driving apparently done explaining. 

Give him a moment, he loves to talk. Jigen waited a moment. And another. He took a deep drag of his cigarette, exhaled heavily. But Lupin seemed to be done, as if he’d given all the answers and not just been secretive some more. God, he’d really have to shove his entire arm up to his elbow down his throat to drag the rest out of him, wouldn’t he? 

“Ah, I see-“ 

“And what exactly is it we’re after-“ 

Both Jigen and Goemon spoke at the same time, and both stopped to look at each other with squinted eyes through the rear view mirror. Jigen sighed and crossed his arms. 

“Well I don’t, and Lupin won’t tell me so why don’t you do the honours Goemon?” 

Goemon gave him a placating look through the mirror before beginning. 

“The only old burial grounds worth plundering here would be Viking ones, and the only Viking ones worth it would be those of historical chiefs. Knowing this ‘President’ persona and his reputation of being obsessed with obtaining powers like those of the American president, hence his nickname and the reason why he hoards nukes like a greedy dragon, the desired object would be something of magnificent proportions. You mentioned earlier it granted it’s master immortality. Am I correct?” 

Damn, Goemon was smarter than the two of them normally gave him credit for. How the hell did he just get all of that when he’d been totally absent most of the day, stuck inside his own mind? Jigen had been so hung up on the parts left unsaid he’d nearly forgotten what little information he had been given. 

“That’s right!” Lupin jovially went on with that familiar glint in his eye, “Swedish archaeologists digging around on Gotland Island found a new runestone some months ago. The runes on it told of a until now long forgotten event. It goes something like: 

_Birk, the most feared war chief of many generations passed has received a blessed idol from the gods. His men shall never grow old and weary by the youth granted by Idun’s golden apples. His men, should they fall, with the protection of Hild they shall rise again. His men whose loyal hearts return them to the battlefield shall fight fiercely with the strength and fearlessness of Tor._

So what that tells us is that that Birk guy was pretty popular among the gods so they let him essentially become a demigod who commanded an immortal army. Now, how true any of this is is uncertain but what we do know is this thing would be valuable either way. It’s a job like any other, see?” 

When he didn’t get an immediate response Lupin’s cocky grin slightly faltered and he chanced a glance to his right to gauge Jigen’s reaction. He’d known that keeping the gunman in the dark for this long would result in some tension, but it had been necessary this time. Thankfully he had Goemon here for this heist who acted as a bit of a buffer when the two of them got on each others nerves. Another saving grace was that they were almost at the site already. This city really was not that big or crowded, especially at night and so, soon they’d get some more space between them and could go to work. Say what you will about Jigen’s temperament but the guy is a professional when it counts. When Jigen finally spoke around his cigarette he didn’t sound thrilled. 

“That sounds a bit out there, even for you to go after. Who is your source anyway?” 

That was the exact question Lupin had wanted to avoid and the reason he hadn’t told Jigen about the heist or his plans. He tried his best to not pull a sheepish face, or any face at all preferably. Judging by the disapproving glare he felt on the back of his head he’d failed. At least Jigen hadn’t seen him, being busy staring out of his own window and brewing in his sour mood. 

“Jigen, buddy, that’s not important. I have my sources, trust me. Plus, it’s the President we’ve gotta focus on. ” His answer was painfully elusive and he started to regret not having turned the radio on back at the hotel when they first got into the car. Turning it on now would be too obvious an attempt to drown out any further questions. 

A beat of silence later Goemon cut in, “After this job is done, before I leave for Japan I’d like to try some of their chocolate. Either one of you are welcome to join me.” 

Lupin let out a breath of relief, praise the the buffer! 

“Hm? Oh, Goemon! That’s Switzerland, not Sweden!” Lupin giggled at Goemon’s confusion. “It’s a common mistake made by foreigners! Switzerland has chocolate, Sweden has uh, there’s… nothing particularly noteworthy...” Lupin trailed off as he tried to think of anything the swedes were famous for in the rest of the word, his face going neutral and eyes distant in thought. “There’s nothing…” he muttered to himself. 

Next to him in the passenger seat Jigen huffed. He was still in a mood and this sidetracking really was not something they had time for right now. But he knew one of them had to come up with something recognisably Swedish in order for Lupin to snap back to it and let this conversation die. 

God, what did this tiny northern country have? There weren’t any world renowned criminals he could think of. Or artists. Or scientists, or entrepreneurs- 

“Ikea.” He deadpanned. “It’s got Ikea. Now what were you saying about the President, you know, our mark?” 

Lupin’s face lit up at the mention of the Swedish trademark. 

“Nothing! Just that he’s here and coincidentally so are we now !” 

They had arrived at the edge of a sparse forest of pines and birches. Behind the tips of the crowns of the trees the sky was a deep navy blue, and behind them towards the city the sky was still black as coal, and at the horizon glimpses of stars could be caught through the clouds if one squinted. It was a chilly but pleasant morning. Lupin parked the car facing the city in case of a hasty escape and they all climbed out, Jigen stubbed his cigarette out on the dashboard before getting out. 

“The ancient grounds are ahead past these trees, we’ve gotta park here to avoid being detected. Ah! ABBA!” Lupin exclaimed with glee. Goemon gave him an uncertain look while Jigen turned his back to his companions and started walking towards the forest. 

“Jigen, hang on!” 

\- 

As they reached the other end of the forest the scenery changed. While driving to the location most of the nature they’d passed had been flatlands, fields and small groves. Here the ground was so ripe with high steep hills suddenly erupting out of the ground it looked like the earth was experiencing an extreme case of the goosebumps. Off to the far right the beginning of a path could be seen and even further off stood an old wooden church. 

“What’s up with these hills? Did someone forget to iron this part of the country out?” Jigen mused. 

“Those are the graves Jigen, do show some respect. The Vikings did their best but they weren’t exactly Egyptians,” Lupin explained with a hint of a smile at Jigen’s remark. 

Jigen hummed in response and looked around. There were hills after hills after hills, each time you rounded one there were more. They couldn’t stick to the path, too risky when they were trying to form an ambush. Usually hills were great spots to get a good look at your surroundings but not in this instance, if they climbed one they risked being spotted. Another disadvantage of the hills was that they could easily disorient someone who’d strayed from the path and wasn’t familiar with the area, especially at the dusk of dawn, making their escape riskier. On the other hand they’d provide great cover. Overall the favours were about fifty-fifty. The President and his men had most likely taken a few days to get to know the area but in the heat of an eventual encounter they would be too riled up to think clearly enough to use their knowledge efficiently. 

Jigen felt more at ease with a job right in front of him and less bothered by Lupins hithero evasive behaviour. He reached for his Walther and hunched low. 

They knew each other well enough after having worked together for however many years to communicate without words, and quietly spread out just enough to cover each other’s blind spots without losing sight of one another. Slowly they crept forward, listening for voices, machines, anything. After rounding what felt like a couple dozen identical hills they heard noises as they reached one with a faint halo shining around its edges, indicative of people with floodlights set up on the other side. 

Lupin gestured for Goemon and Jigen to stay put while he climbed to the top of the hill flat on his stomach, when he reached the top he carefully peeked over to the other side. 

Down there in the sizeable valley formed between three hills a group of people were working like ants. Running back and forth with wheelbarrows full of dirt, shovelling and generally working up a good sweat. It just so happened that they’d crept up behind the very hill the President’s gang had set about working open. They were digging into it from the side rather than from the top down. Whether or not that was the best idea Lupin wasn’t so sure about but, hey, still the perfect arrangement in his book. So long as he didn’t have to move an entire hill by hand himself he’d gladly sit back and let those goons tire themselves out, it’d make his job of stealing their prize away much easier. 

A little ways behind the centre of commotion stood two additional figures, not dressed as the others in durable working clothes. The taller of the two, a man in his fifties was clad in a nice navy, obviously custom made, suit with shiny shoes and a hat to complete his boss look. 

“Mr President.” Lupin quietly greeted. “Who is your new errand boy?” 

The person next to the President was a slim person, tall but not quite as tall as his boss. Lupin couldn’t make out any facial features as this guy was dressed up in full motorcycle gear, from the helmet which he wore closed, to the loose crash suit, elbow and knee pads, gloves and sturdy boots. Armed too. No motorcycle in sight though, it must be parked somewhere beyond the hills. 

While Lupin studied the cast of ten characters in total in the valley, shouting erupted right below him. He pressed closer to the ground and stayed still, concentrating to hear what they were saying. 

“We’ve reached the corpse, boss! Just a bunch of knick-knacks so far have been pulled out with the dirt, combs and such. We’ll keep digging,” a guy at the forefront of the digging site shouted. The President moved from his spot at the back of the commotion towards the entrance they’d made into the grave. The motorcycle guy stayed behind to keep watch. 

Lupin had seen all that he needed to, and satisfied that they’d arrived just at the right moment he wormed his way backwards until he definitively was out of sight to the people on the other side, before turning horizontal to the slope of the hill and rolling down. Goemon and Jigen both let out a small yelp in surprise at impact as their bodies acting as bumpers stopped Lupin’s rolling form from going any further than the foot of the hill. Lupin snickered at them as he got up. 

“The President is going to have the idol in his hands any minute now. As soon as he does we’ll strike. Goemon, there’s a man keeping watch of the procedure at the foot of the far hill and I suspect he’s more heavily armed than the grunts. All yours.” Goemon gave him a curt nod and put his hand on the hilt of Zantetsuken. 

“Jigen, there are eight exhausted henchmen milling about, no match for you. I’ll detain the President.” With the rudimentary plan laid out another victorious shout came from the other side of the hill. The sound of the men shuffling about is their haste to extract the sought after object spurred the gang of thieves into action. Goemon crouched facing the hill that separated them from their newly unearthed treasure. He took a breath and steadied himself, then he sprung into the air up high above either group of people on the ground. 

“Fly you glorious bastard, and cut some unworthy objects!” Lupin said as he threw a mock salute at Goemon’s disappearing form before getting on his feet and sprinting off to the right. 

Jigen calmly took another second to check that all his chambers were full before heading to the left. 

\- 

On the other side of the hill the President took the idol from the hands holding it out for him. The men were acting unprofessional, prematurely celebrating the find noisily with hoots and hollers. Well, let them. There’s nobody around here but long dead kings and warriors. 

He held it up level to his face to inspect it more closely. Dirt still clung to the finer details of the piece but the general motive of a humanoid was nonetheless obvious, with the eyes peculiarly enlarged. He slightly turned it in his hands trying to find some sort of trigger to… turn it on? How the ancient magical gadget is activated wasn’t mentioned on the rune stone found on Gotland so he’d still have to find a way to figure that out, but that’s okay. As soon as he did he’d be even more powerful than his counterpart in the White House, he’d practically be god! Well, if the tale was to be believed he’d technically be three gods. As the President turned the idol this way and that inspecting it with the men settling down around him, four shots, followed closely by a metallic sound, suddenly rang out from behind them. They all whipped around towards the sound, and upon seeing that it was the racer clad watchman shooting at the sky they turned their gazes upwards. 

A man shrouded in a cloud of billowing fabrics came falling down towards the watchman from above, drawn sword in hand and determination on his face. Before the man even hit the ground he had the sword back in its sheath and soon after him the four bullets fired fell around him, all perfectly cut in half. 

Not the President nor his men had time to properly react to the strangely dressed man before he leapt forward toward the watchman, approaching rapidly while the watchman, apparently not much bothered by this turn of events, kept shooting at him whilst retreating behind the hill in the direction of the path that wound its way between the graves. Just before completely disappearing in his efforts to shoot down the intruder while not getting cut down himself, the watchman glanced at the site one last time. His hidden gaze swept the area before doing a double take, his free hand shooting up to point at something, before he returned his full attention to his attacker. 

He had been pointing at a spot behind and just to the left of the President. The men standing around the President all reached for their own handguns while turning, but two of them barely made it all the way around before their guns suddenly flew from their hands in sync to another two echoing gunshots. It took another second or so to spot the dark figure in a hat standing in the shadows between two hills just out of the reach of the floodlights. 

“Mornin’, gentlemen!” Jigen shouted at the President and his gang, a cocky smile having found space to stretch out on his face after his previous sour mood. Some action and a tangible prize in sight had that effect. 

Anyone who was anything in the criminal world knew of the master gunman Jigen. And where Jigen went, trouble soon followed in the form of a particularly tenacious thief. 

“Shoot him!” The President roared in a hoarse voice, his throat suddenly dry and his mind jumbled. 

\- 

Goemon continued to deflect the bullets with ease, all the while pursuing and reducing the distance between himself and the retreating watchman. They danced around another two hills before exiting them and ending up on the gravelly path. At that point his mark gave up the shooting and instead turned his back to him to sprint full speed to the right down the path, the same direction Goemon and the others had come from earlier. 

“Foolish.” Goemon said and picked up the pace. No doubt this man was fast, he almost made the pursuit an effort, but Goemon would catch up soon enough and that would be the end of the man. Another unworthy opponent whom Lupin could’ve dealt with himself, or sicked Jigen on. He knew the only reason he was here for this job was because Lupin had accepted it at the request of Fujiko. The car ride conversation had made that clear enough, and his role was to soothe Jigen’s nerves and keep him from assaulting Lupin when he caught on. No matter the reason, he’d do his job even if it was beneath his level, get his share, if Fujiko didn’t take off with it first, and leave Lupin to deal with his mess. 

Goemon was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of a motor revving and the smell of gasoline right in his face. He halted for a split second, only just a meter away from his mark, and the man sped away on a dirtbike. For some meters he followed the path before taking a hard left in between the hills on the other side. Goemon quickly reprimanded himself for loosing focus and continued the chase. 

Goemon dashed once again in between the eternal hills. He tried following the sound of the engine, but the sound bounced and once he’d rounded one hill the man had moved well beyond the next. He still fatuously tried to locate the man for an embarrassing amount of time. 

“Enough of this game,” he muttered. 

He stopped, facing the slope of the hill directly in front of him and closed his eyes. He bent his knees and adjusted his stance in preparation for a jump. He listened. After a minute the engine was getting closer again, the watchman would need to get back to the site as soon as he thought he’d lost Goemon. Closer still. A small effort and he was airborne. 

He hung in the air above the hill and drew Zantetsuken from its sheath as the watchman was powerless to stop his own forward momentum. He’d turned back after being sure he’d lost Goemon and to speed up his return had chosen to jump the hills rather than navigate around them. Now suspended in the air with no way of stopping or turning all he could do was to lift the front wheel of his bike high to try and shield himself from a swift swing by the deadly sword. 

A metallic schink sounded in the dark as Goemon gracefully landed on the hilltop, and waited for the inevitable crash that would soon follow behind him. A dull thud came but that was it, then the sound of an engine revving as the dirtbike once again accelerated away. 

Goemon righted himself and slowly spun around. He frowned at the inexplicably crash free site below him. He had sliced the front wheel clean off the bike, deciding at the very last moment to spare the mans life and just let him loose consciousness upon impact with the ground. So where was he? A quick scan of the grassy ground turned up nothing, except… 

The front wheel and its suspension system lay halfway under a bush, peeking out innocently. It was what had made the thudding noise. In the corner of his eye he caught a flash of movement a couple of hills over, darting away. He turned his head just in time to see the watchman still on his dirtbike having taken another jump over a hill and falling down into the next valley, driving standing up on only the rear wheel. Bastard was still on his merry way heading down the pathway. 

Goemon felt his face heat up in shame at his own incompetence in taking out a singe man on a flimsy bike. He would not have any chocolate after this heist was over because clearly he did not deserve it. “No more mercy,” he muttered then clamped his mouth shut. 

This time he would get him. No distracting thoughts to dilute his attention, no empathy to cloud his judgement of his enemy. No unnecessary cruelty, he’d simply slice the man in half and return to aid his partners. He promised himself these things while running behind the one wheeled bike down the unpaved path. 

The singular wheel, still many meters in front of him, grabbed gravel and dirt and spat it out sending it flying through the air and somehow, no matter wether he moved left or right, it all landed with precision on his face and in his eyes. The watchman turned his head around for a moment to asses the situation. He looked at Goemon valiantly pursuing him but lacking some of the self-assuredness he’d had at the beginning of their altercation. His shoulders shook indicating that he was laughing at him under that helmet. 

Goemon squinted his eyes and bared his teeth, this chase would end now. He leapt once again into the air and drew his sword, clasping it with both hands and holding it steady over his head. He’d calculated it perfectly so that he’d land right on top of the man bringing his end about in less than a moment. It was only humane. 

The man saw Goemon’s leap and came to the same conclusion, Goemon would land on him and that would be it. But then again, maybe not, if he had a say in it. He turned his face back to watch the path but brought his right hand from the steering wheel to his neck, unzipping the front of his suit. 

“Pull your weapons at me, warrior, your end is nigh.” Goemon said as he started his decent. 

He was so close, less than the blink of an eye away from slashing the poor bastard open when he turned his upper body back around to face Goemon again. His right hand was grasping the opening of his suit pulling it as far off his chest as he possibly could, puffing himself up to reveal- 

Goemon’s eyes widened to the point of falling out of his skull and he involuntarily let out a very loud and comically boyish gasp. 

Not his, _her_ chest. Her very well developed chest covered by nothing but a thin lacy bra that neither left shape nor colour to the imagination. 

Goemon’s mind ground to a stop. He had already figured out that she was involved, but he had assumed that she had merely sent Lupin out on the field, not that she would be here herself. And working with the President? If she was working with him it was probably to get close to him to make stealing the treasure easier, but then why involve Lupin at all and make everything more complicated for herself? Goemon struggled to straighten out whatever plans Fujiko had spun together while she brought her free right hand to the chin of her helmet then held her palm flat out blowing him a kiss. She grabbed her steering wheel with both hands again after zipping the suit back up. She was gone. Not that Goemon knew. He had been too busy getting distracted again. 

He hit the ground face first to the sound of gravel grinding against gravel, eating away at the skin of his right cheek. He heard nothing but the sound of his own teeth clanking together, nearly biting his tongue clean off in the process. In the chaos of his fall and tumble he’d lost his grip on Zantetsuken and he vaguely registered a clattering sound to his left. The chase was over. 

Way ahead on her motorised unicycle Fujiko observed his pitiful collapse through her rearview mirror. “Oh,” she winced in sympathy. “I’m sorry, pretty boy.” Goemon’s innocence was not something she liked to use against him, but to be fair he’d been a hairsbreadth away from ending her beautiful existence. She sent him another mental apology before making a u-turn into the hills to her right. She had a ways to drive back now before reaching the excavation site and no time to loose. 

Goemon lay where he had fallen. He felt pathetic and would not be needed by his partners. 

\- 

When he had ordered his men to shoot the intruder the President had expected a quick conclusion. Sure, this Jigen fellow was supposedly the fastest man with a gun, but one standing off to nine other armed men? Ridiculous, he had no chance. Or rather, he wouldn’t have had a chance if he hadn’t immediately darted off back behind the hill where he’d come from. At that point the President expected his men to deal with the situation in a reasonable way. I.e. to split up, maybe have five of them chase the gunman and three stay with him in the valley to protect him. Was some shred of common sense too much to ask from your henchmen? Apparently so, because they all set off after the gunman, shouting directions at each other and leaving their boss very vulnerable and alone behind. Him shouting _you idiots, don’t you all follow him!_ was unheard over their own voices and he was soon indeed totally alone. 

The instinctual fear of the dark ingrained in every human was heightened by the floodlights surrounding him, their bright lights cast on his immediate surroundings only made the darkness seem even darker and more impenetrable. 

In one direction he heard his watchman’s distant fire cease, whether that indicated her success or failure remained to be revealed. From the other direction at a much closer but increasingly growing distance came the constant irregular fire of his eight men plus their moving target. 

He backed up until he was standing in the middle of the valley with a good berth of light on all sides. He tightly clasped the idol to his chest in his left hand and pulled out his gun in his right. If anyone tried to come after him they’d have to reveal themselves first. Unless… he threw his panicked gaze up and stared at the darkness at the hilltops, continuously spinning this way and that to assure himself the gunman hadn’t sneaked up to a vantage point to snipe him. 

He saw nothing. That didn’t mean it wasn’t there. His pulse raced and his heart was beating hard against his ribcage. Once this was over every single one of his men were dead. He’d take pleasure in executing them personally for their lack of competence. Their bullets were still flying, how was it possible for eight men to fail at taking out a single man? 

He heard an engine start and a motorbike drive away with a flying start. So she was still alive. Good, she had been the only one to show some competence so far, having gotten rid of that man in a sheet and spotting the gunman while doing it. Once she came back he would be safe for sure- 

“Well, well, well, Mr President! You look stressed! Is there anything I can do for you?” 

An all too cheery high voice was carried to him by the wind. It seemed to impossibly come from all directions at once. Even as he spun another full turn he saw not hide nor tail of its owner. 

“Reveal yourself you coward!” He shouted back at the darkness. 

Laughter drifted back to him. It was lighthearted and sounded genuine, like he’d just told a very clever joke. 

“If you insist,” came the much darker sounding response after the laughter had died down. 

The President waited, muscles all tensed up and body wound as a spring. He strained to listen for any noise but could not make anything out over his own heavy breathing. He clutched the idol harder to his chest and held his gun out in front of him, finger on the trigger ready to shoot. In his own mind it would be impossible to sneak up on him now. He was constantly turning, keeping one eye fixed straight ahead and the other focused on his wider surroundings. One would have to be a ghost to get close to him. And yet. 

A hand patted him softly twice on his left shoulder, a whispered surprise! was breathed right next to his ear, and the idol snatched out of his hand when he spun around. He felt the barrel of a gun press harshly into his chest and a face invited itself into his personal space. 

The President found himself face to face with a man startlingly resemblant of a monkey. His eyes were screwed shut and nose scrunched up from how hard he was grinning, pleased with his own entrance. His smile was the biggest and toothiest ever witnessed. Was this humming, giggling lunatic in an obnoxiously bright jacket meant to be the greatest thief of their time? 

“Lupin the third at your service, Mr President!” The man exclaimed and opened his eyes, “would you mind dropping your gun and backing up a few steps? Thank you!” 

The President was so taken aback by the sheer force of this mans personality that he did comply in taking some steps back before remembering that he had no reason to drop his own gun. Instead he quickly pulled his arm back up in front of him aiming at the thief’s chest. 

“Oh, feisty,” the thief winked at him. 

Like this neither man had an advantage over the other. They were separated by no more than five meters, both with a gun pointed at the other playing the age old game of chicken. The President carefully regarded his enemy. He wasn’t talking, just looking at him evenly with a confident smirk ever present on his lips and brows furrowed in concentration. He held his gun in his right hand and the idol in his left, slightly hidden behind his leg. 

He focused on the gun. It looked like a standard model, nothing modded or extravagantly enhanced. The thief’s skinny finger rested on the trigger, ready to take a shot. This could not be how he ended, the President, slain, at the hand of some bratty youngster. As he looked down the barrel to his potential demise he saw something that didn’t belong. He couldn’t be sure at this distance, but the floodlights provided such excess of light that he could not possibly be imagining it either. It was there in the barrel of the thief’s gun, something red, just barely peeking out where there should be nothing but black darkness. 

With a start the President remembered. Tales he’d heard about this man, how he was such a prankster and loved to toy with people even in the most dire of situations. Of course he couldn’t be entirely sure, but he had to take this chance. 

“You’ve made a grave mistake, son. I call your bluff so go ahead and shoot.” The President held both his hands up in the air level to his head. 

“Huh? Didn’t expect him to give up so easily…” Lupin muttered in disappointment, an almost sad look on his face. This did not turn out to be nearly as exiting as he’d imagined. The President, known for his aggressiveness and short temper should’ve put up a fight like no other. He wondered what he meant by bluff though. Lupin had had every intention of shooting if it had seemed like the President would have posed a real threat to him. He looked at the very real gun in his hand with a pout on his face. Did it look cheap? Fake? Is that what he meant, that his gun looked like it wouldn’t deal any real damage- 

Lupins eyes widened when he realised his own mistake. Oh shit. Oh fuck. The President was right. If he pulled the trigger, it wouldn’t harm him, because in his hand he was holding his prank gun, the one that only shoots out a flag with a goofy caricature of himself and some tiny confetti. His real gun was resting tucked down the back of his pants. What a rookie mistake to grab the wrong one, embarrassing really. He couldn’t let it on though, and if he played his cards right he could still worm his way out of this situation just like many others. 

“What are you waiting for, thief? Shoot!” The President spat at him. When Lupin just casually shrugged and opened his mouth to deliver a quick response the President didn’t wait to hear what he had to say. He aimed downwards and shot. There was the temperament finally shining through. 

The bulled embedded itself into Lupin’s right thigh, and the searing white hot pain that exploded out into the rest of his leg from the wound knocked him right over. In his fall his hands clenched from the pain and his gun fired the flag out with a toot and a rainbow shower of confetti pieces. When he hit the ground he let go of his confetti gun since it was useless anyway, and placed the idol on his stomach. He propped himself up with his right elbow and looked up at the President, who had stepped closer after Lupin fell and now stood over him steadily pointing his gun at his chest. There was no way Lupin could reach behind him for his real gun without the President noticing. And with his leg like this the chances of him successfully kicking the President’s legs out from underneath him were slim. He would need a distraction. He smiled a wonky smile and let out a loud shrill whistle. 

“Whoo boy, what a pickle huh? Heh, shall we call this a draw?” 

The President looked distinctly unamused. He was just about ready to shoot this imbecile when the sound of an engine roared. A moment later the watchman came flying over the same hill the idol had resided in until recently, on what looked like to Lupin to be some kind of unicycle motorcycle. 

The watchman slammed down into one of the many piles of dirt left after the excavation effort and momentarily lost traction on the soft malleable surface. He wobbled and looked dangerously close to loosing his balance as well as his dignity. Struggling to keep upright, he didn’t seem to notice that he was heading straight for the sole two men in the valley. For a second Lupin was sure the watchman would crash right into the President. That was a distraction if he’d ever seen one! And he wouldn’t even have to lift a finger! What a funny scene it would make, and it sure put him in a better mood! The thought and small cheer in his mind did not last long though as the watchman, at the very last second realising what was about to happen, stepped off the bike with his right foot, and using himself as counterpoise managed to turn the bike before letting it go and hopping off. The bike had been traveling at such a high speed that it did not immediately fall over, but kept running and skipping, as if a coincidence straight at Lupin. The bike towered over him like a horse rearing on its hind legs before falling over. 

He liked this outcome a whole lot less. He could also now determine while laying flat on his back on the ground with the, as it turned out, dirtbike overtop of him, that it was not half a bike after all. Most of it was still there, and he felt every bit of it. On any other day he would just have stood up and brushed himself off, but this time the weight of the bike pressed against his fresh bleeding wound and the pain was so overwhelming he felt nauseous and was certainly seeing more stars than the sky really held. 

“What took you so long,” the President grumbled at the watchman as he gave the bike a pensive look, “keep an eye on him.” He ordered as he put his own gun away and approached Lupin once again. 

Lupin felt cold sweat start to break out on his forehead as he looked up at the President, meeting his stare. The President bent down over him and grabbed the idol clasped in 

 

his hand, it was partially squashed between his body and the bike. They struggled against each other in a game of tug of war. With each tug and jostle Lupin flinched and gasped in pain until the idol slipped from his grip. The President straightened and Lupin rested his head back down on the ground. He allowed himself a moment to pant to try and let the air clear his blurring vision. His face felt so hot and he was getting pins and needles in his right foot. The sky above had grown brighter since they got here but the sun had yet to reach the ground.

The President was telling the watchman to finish him off. Certainly that man could not really have bested Goemon. And what was Jigen doing, having a tea party and exchanging heist stories with the henchmen? Lupin drew in a deep breath and whistled a wavering tune. That earned him a glance from the President who otherwise had busied himself with studying the idol once again. 

The watchman stepped forward pulling a small concealed gun from his hip. 

\- 

“Shoot him!” 

The six of the goons that still had their guns in their hands all took aim and shot at him while the other two whom he’d unarmed scrambled to the ground for theirs. There was no need to give them an easy target so Jigen flung one hand onto his hat as he threw himself back behind the hill. He had four shots left before reload. 

Judging by the rowdiness and number of footfalls approaching the whole gang was coming his way. The ones to his right had a shorter way to go and would have him within their sights first. Jigen turned to his right and readied himself. A heartbeat later he saw the silhouette of a man who spotted him at the same time and both men fired. 

Jigen has been stationary when the man spotted him, but sprung into action the instant he shot and the bullet missed. The man wasn’t so lucky, he’d been in motion when entering Jigen’s field of view and Jigen hadn’t had to think about adjusting his aim to account for motion for decades, his hands knew how to aim. His bullet hit the man square in the chest and stopped him dead in his tracks, his face instantly going slack and knees locking up for a second before buckling. Right behind the first man a second one appeared. He was shocked still and blinked once before gathering his wits about him and grabbing onto his falling partner’s collar, heaving the body up as a shield just in time to save himself from the same fate. 

Jigen swore at the wasted bullet and ducked as answering fire flew to the right and left of him, the men approaching from his left having finally rounded the hill. He ducked behind the next one. 

“Two bullets till reload.” He counted aloud to himself. He needed to think of some kind of plan, a strategy to take these men out as efficiently as possible or they would be stuck here all morning playing hide and seek. 

Briefly, the thought crossed his mind that maybe, if he took his hat and jacket off and rolled up his sleeves and slowly crept between the hills the men would mistake him for one of them in the dark and he could just sneak off back to the valley. Jigen had to smile at how Lupin such a plan was, and at if Lupin were the one attempting it, it would likely work too. But not for him, so he sent away the idea. 

Contradictory instructions were shouted in multiple voices from both directions, and another bullet whizzing past some meters away from him had him moving again. This time he had no way of knowing when, or how many men would appear from either side, so he flipped a mental coin and then dashed to the left. 

In the valley between the two hills he ran into the shapes of three men. As they had been running at each other with a big obstruction in between it was as if they suddenly appeared out of thin air. Their paths would inevitably cross and Jigen only had two bullets. Time to get physical, then. He bowed and tackled the first man with an elbow to the stomach, and luckily for Jigen, because the men ran so close to one another, the first fell onto the second who staggered and flailed on his way down. The both of them blocked the third man for a moment from taking a shot at Jigen and he wasted no time in hustling onward. A couple of shots were fired from the other direction. One of the bullets managed to nick him in the arm as he ran and he reflexively fired warning shots back but neglected to aim. 

“These guys are just shooting on sight, can’t they shoot each other?” Jigen puffed, slightly out of breath but not daring to stop yet with seven goons right on his tail and all empty chambers. His arm stung a little, but he’d live. 

Two hills later he stopped and crouched down to reload. He could’ve done it while running but the uneven terrain and the dark made it slightly too risky for his tastes. Better safe than sorry, no matter what Lupin has to say about ‘fun’ and ‘taking risks, Jigen, nothing ventured nothing gained’. In his mad dash uncaring about planning his next step or keeping track of his pursuers Jigen had shaken off the goons, at least for now. They’d close in on him soon enough and he would be waiting for them. This might even be an advantage. They had lost him and as long as he remained still and quiet close to the ground he’d be pretty much impossible to spot. If any of them happened to wander into his field of view he’d simply pick them off one after another. 

He stayed put and listened carefully for any noises but it seemed the others had gotten a clue and shut their big mouths. As he looked around he noticed the sky was brightening. The days arrived slowly this time of year this far north, but the night would soon be over. He kept listening and sweeping his gaze back and forth. 

For minutes he sat there undetected without any sign of the goons. He was almost ready to call it a victory and make his way back when he heard something. A sharp clear whistle cut through the air. He knew exactly who that whistle belonged to, and it was something only used when the whistler was is dire need of help. Or just whenever he felt like having company. Jigen guessed it was the former reason this time around, though. 

He got up wincing as his knees protested after the prolonged crouching and snuck around the hill. By now the goons must be far away still searching for him. 

He only made it to the valley between the next two hills when he heard another sound. Something familiar but still so distant he couldn’t put his finger on it. It got closer fast and originated from somewhere vaguely behind him. The sound had grown loud enough to make it clear it was some type of smaller engine, a vehicle that could traverse this type of terrain. He turned to the path from the previous valley between the two steep hills and prepared to shoot. 

The vehicle did not come that way. With a roar a dark mass shot up over his head and by the time he looked up and comprehended what he was seeing the driver, it was the watchman he realised, had a gun out and pointed down. He had used the hill as a ramp to jump over one to the other. 

Jigen was only hit once but could’ve sworn he had heard two shots. The watchman landed and drove on by, leaving Jigen clasping his left hand to the right side of his abdomen hissing and gasping, fighting his body’s reflexes to keep from keeling over. Shouting started up again, but not distantly from where he had though it would. The goons were not far away in the opposite direction of the excavation site, they were in fact close by between Jigen and that point. 

An ambush. When he’d outrun them and they quieted down it wasn’t because they were sneaking around looking for him, but because they had done the same as him. Bunkering down and waiting for the pray to feel safe and reveal itself. And reveal himself he had, and now the watchman has scored a near perfect gut shot and he would soon be totally surrounded again. 

Jigen swore himself to hell and back and once again turned in the approximate direction of the centre of this circus. He took a few steps and almost stumbled over a heap on the ground. It was a body laying face down, but not the man he had shot. That man should be way ahead, right next to the idol’s grave. The shouting of the remaining goons came ever closer while Jigen’s mind struggled to catch up. He had heard two shots. One came from the watchman, which had hit him. And this man must’ve crept up behind him at the same moment and fired the second shot. 

Except, now that he thought about it, he was pretty sure he had been hit by the second shot, and the bullet had entered from behind and exited from his front. And if this man was dead then the watchman must’ve shot him. But why? Had it been a mistake on the watchman’s part? It was still pretty dark out and from that high up they all probably looked the same in the gloominess. 

The voices were right around the hill now. Shit, he did not have time nor strength to run. There was nowhere left to go, nowhere to hide. He wished he could just stand there as one with the darkness, be totally invisible and intangible. 

His breath was coming in short gasps and his side was screaming in pain. He couldn’t think much else except for _ugh, I can’t breathe_ over and over. He opened his eyes even though he had no recollection of closing them. The men were mere seconds away now. He looked up at the hill standing proud in front of him. This stupid fucking hill-grave. 

“It’s time you made yourself useful.” He spoke through gritted teeth at it before gathering all the strength he could and started climbing up. At first he took long steps but the slope quickly grew very steep and he hissed before biting his lower lip as he laid down on his stomach and crawled further up. His plan was the same as before except for one detail. He’d stay still and close to the ground and hope that that plus his dark apparel would be enough to disguise him, but this time he’d be high up where hopefully no one would think to look. 

The men were below him now, examining the corpse, looking around, some peeking into the valley beyond. No one looked up. 

Jigen tried to breathe through his nose as evenly as possible and refrain from making pained noises. He wondered what had become of Lupin and Goemon. By now Goemon had surely reached Lupin and pulled him out of whatever situation had arisen to warrant the whistle. 

Another whistle reached his ears just as he had the thought. Knock on fucking wood. If Lupin whistled twice that meant he was still on his own requesting backup, so what the hell was going on over there? 

A bright red light sparkled into existence in the sky ahead. A flare. The men noticed it too. They debated for a moment, torn between giving up the chase and returning to check out the latest development. Ultimately they decided to return, unaware that their target was right among them, observing them. As they left Jigen crawled the last bit up to the top and watched them leave. When they were out of sight he laid horizontally to the slope of the hill, cursed Lupin for giving him this idea, and rolled down. It hurt like a son of a gun and as his momentum ran out and he came to a stop he very nearly passed out from blinding pain. He put his unsteady hand back over his wound, applied pressure, and shakily got up, vertigo confusing his senses and threatening to push him over multiple times. Once he was almost certain he was standing on his legs again he staggered away, the bright red light showing the way like a morning star. 

\- 

Goemon heard the whistle but took another second to pity himself before peeling his face off the ground. His right cheek would bruise and swell spectacularly and he had indeed bitten his tongue, he felt the blood pouring down his chin like a red waterfall and dripping onto his chest. He stayed on his knees in the middle of the pathway for an extra moment, ascertaining nothing was broken before standing up. He had scraped his hands and knees and torn his hakama. What a pitiful sight he must make. 

Zantetsuken lay just off the road on the grass where it had bounced when he dropped it. Such a master sword deserved a better wielder than him, he would have to dedicate himself harder to his training. 

He picked it up and slid it into its sheath before tracing his own steps back to the Viking grave. He wasn’t dragging his feet, no such childish behaviour was becoming of a warrior, but he was not walking briskly either. When Lupin whistles he normally seeks his partner out swiftly, for the whistle most of the time is a call for help. Although what help he could possibly be of right now he didn’t know. He would let himself honour the summoning call even though by the time he made it there Jigen would already have swept in and saved the day. A true warrior who didn’t get distracted by simple, normal things such as women. 

Goemon lowered his gaze to the ground in thought. Maybe… he should take Lupin up on his longtime offer to help him get a girlfriend… just to get used to women. So he wouldn’t be so affected every time. He straightened up again and walked faster. No. Even the thought is too dishonourable, to use some poor woman’s affection for his training. His problem lies within him, and is his alone to work out. 

Goemon grappled with his own thoughts and conscience all the way back until he’d almost reached the valley of the grave. He was just about to climb one last hill when he heard the second whistle. He furrowed his brow and took a leap. A second whistle? What for? He landed on the hilltop and looked into the valley. 

Down there in the unforgiving glare of the floodlights an execution was underway. Lupin lay pinned under the bike not putting up as much of a struggle as Goemon expected of him while Fujiko as the watchman stood close to him, a small gun pointed at him. The President was there as well but had turned slightly away to pour all his attention over the idol. 

Goemon hesitated to intervene, surely this must be some kind of setup between Lupin, Jigen and Fujiko to fool their enemies? He looked at every dark corner of the valley but couldn’t spot Jigen. And when he looked back at the scene and focused on Lupin’s face he did seem to be in pain and, if his eyes did not betray him, he almost looked scared. The President pried his eyes off the idol and too looked over at the two of them, Lupin and his watchman. 

“What are you waiting for? Shoot him before he starts talking again, I hate his annoying voice.” 

“Oh hey now that’s just mean, I might be dying you know,” Lupin quipped, but without the usual playfulness. 

“You are dying,” the President factually stated. 

Fujiko adjusted her grip on the gun, grasping it tighter to the point where even Goemon could hear the leather of her glove creak. 

He decided that whatever plans had been agreed upon she was likely about to pull the rug out from under their feet just as she’d done many times before and he needed to intervene. He flew through the air, Zantetsuken drawn, with such speed that it produced a wooshing sound. In the blink of an eye he stood between Lupin and the two others, Fujiko’s outstretched arm with the gun now pointed at him. He closed his eyes and sheathed Zantetsuken. A faint gasp from the President soon followed as Fujiko’s gun fell apart in three pieces, her hand completely unharmed. She stepped back several meters and patted herself down, looking for something to pull out next. 

“Go-Go! Am I glad to see you,” Lupin said with more life in his voice than he’d had a moment before as he reached a hand out to pat Goemon’s ankle as best as he could. 

“I apologise for my tardy arrival. I was distracted,” Goemon said with a glance back at his occasional boss and permanent friend. 

“Woah, did you fight a god? Look at your face,” Lupin said in astonishment when he saw Goemon’s bruised and bloody features. It was a rare sight to see him that badly beat up. 

Goemon turned his face away from him back to their enemies, mumbling “A foe more powerful than any deity to me…” as Fujiko pulled out whatever kind of weapon he’d have to slice apart next. 

It turned out not to be a weapon, but a flare gun which she fired into the air. It exploded leaving a brilliant lingering red cloud high above them visible for miles. 

“Oh, he called the police,” Lupin said with a note of wonder in his voice. “That’s no good. For any of us.” 

Goemon almost corrected she, not he before realisation hit him. This meant Lupin still had no idea that Fujiko was here with them. And so there could never have been any plans agreed upon by them that she was deviating from, which meant she was playing by her own rules and using them as pawns for her own personal reasons again. And if he told Lupin she was here now, he’d just fawn over her and forget the seriousness of the situation all over again. Better hold those cards close for now. 

Goemon simply elected to stand his ground in front of Lupin making sure the President didn’t take matters into his own hands and started shooting at them. They weren’t there for long, neither one daring to make a move against Goemon in that time, before the henchmen arrived at the valley. Although this time there were only six of them left he noted. So Jigen had been busy, although not as busy as usual. What the reason behind his uncharacteristic slacking was he could dwell on later. Distractions had found him all too easily this morning and he would have no more of it. 

“The police should be alerted to the unexplained flare soon enough. And when they get here I’ll have them take you petty thieves away,” the President spoke, “And don’t give me any smart lines about how I’ll be put under a scrutinising eye as well,” he added when Lupin opened his mouth to interject, “there’s no police in the world that money can’t buy. And money, unlike you lowlifes, is something I have plenty of.” 

“Just you try to buy Pops…” Lupin muttered from his spot under the bike without mentioning that money easily came his way as well when he needed it. There’s no need to brag about trivial things when it’s the acquiring of the valuables that’s the real treasure, the experience of it all. And also the fame and glory. 

They had been surrounded by the six henchmen plus Fujiko, the President standing slightly behind the human wall. Although he might not be in prime shape at this moment, Lupin would be of more help if he were vertical, and so Goemon quickly swung Zantetsuken a few times until the bike simply fell off of Lupin in pieces. 

Lupin took a deep breath as if he’d been under water for too long before sitting up. He clasped onto his thigh with his right hand and loosened his tie with his left, all the while rapidly blinking his eyes to clear away the black spots clouding his vision. 

“You know, Mr President,” he started as he worked on tying the tie around his leg to stop the blood from flowing so freely and making his head so light, “I went to Gotland before coming here.” 

The President looked at him through heavily lidded eyes, feigning disinterest as he kept fiddling with the idol. Lupin wasn’t observing him, occupied on the ground as he was, but Goemon noticed the fidgeting. The statement had caught his attention, although it was false. Lupin and Jigen had been burning through the last of their dispensable cash stash in some rowdy party city somewhere in southern Europe for who knows how long before contacting him and commencing the week long road trip in Lupin’s tiny car without a functional AC. If he’d known how long their trip would be he would have simply flown to Sweden directly himself, but alas, Lupin had withheld a lot from his partners concerning this particular job. 

Goemon nonchalantly cast a glance over his shoulder to catch a hint as to what Lupin was up to now, but he was sat bent over himself and so he couldn’t learn anything from his face. 

“I visited the site of excavation, the site where they found the runestone, I’m sure you understand. As it turns out, those archaeologist types can be just as sneaky as any other professional trying to keep themselves relevant and in the media’s spotlight. They not only knew all along where to look for the idol, but on the runestone that they found it specifies in great detail how to use it. I know this of course because I translated it myself, you can never trust what you read in the newspapers. But they chose to only release a small part of the story so that once the general excitement generated by the story started fading they could release just a little bit more at a time, _hey we’ve found the idol now! Hey, a previously untranslatable part of the stone has been cracked and this is what it says!_ ” Lupin waved his hands in the air pretending to be the archaeologists acting surprised at their own ‘new’ findings, “you know how it is.” 

He leaned slightly back to look past the goon in front of the President and caught his gaze. The President was definitively contemplating wether there was any truth to his words or if this was a ruse. Lupin smirked at him before breaking the stare to look up at Goemon’s tall figure. 

“Goemon, a hand if you don’t mind,” he said and held his bloodied right hand up for Goemon to grab. He was pulled to his feet and his arm placed around Goemon’s shoulders to keep him upright. Standing up both felt better and worse than being on the ground, better for the body but definitively worse for his head. He’d shake his head to try and clear away the dizziness but that would probably just make it worse. He opted for keeping his head bent and resting it on his shoulder as well as he could. 

“You are, as I see it, trying to bargain for your life,” the President said. 

“Something like that,” Lupin answered, “I’ll save you the trouble of having to go to Gotland yourself to find out how to use your new toy, and in return I get to live another day. Happily ever after for everyone!” 

“Hmm. Then again, why would I waste any more time on this thing by going myself? I’ll send my men to Gotland tomorrow and you to the grave tonight. I even have a tomb ready right over there, fit for a warrior.” 

“Ah-” Lupin reached his free left hand into his jacket pocket but froze when six guns jerked in his direction in almost perfect unison, “-I’m just getting my smokes,” he assured. The President slowly nodded and he slowly and deliberately lowered his hand into his pocket. 

“Are you absolutely certain you’d not rather save the cost of the tickets then?” 

“As I said before, I’m not some bottom feeder like yourself and your accomplices, money is of no concern to me,” the President said and stuck his nose high up in the air. 

“If that’s how you feel,” Lupin suddenly jerked his hand out of his pocket, “then I guess this is goodbye!” He threw whatever he’d retrieved from his pocket on the ground right in front of his own and Goemon’s feet. His sudden movement spurred all goons surrounding them into action but Fujiko, who instead threw herself at the ground, but their bullets never reached their intended targets. Instead they whizzed through a cloud of deep grey smoke and some even nicked a shoulder or arm of the unfortunate bastard standing on the opposite side of the circle as the shooter. 

A parting _Merci, Chiao!_ drifted through the air as the shooting stopped. The smoke was thick and dissipated slowly. When it was gone, so were Lupin and Goemon. 

\- 

Jigen had arrived at the valley just in time to see Goemon pull Lupin to his feet, at which point he was so sweaty and out of breath that he chose to lay down in whatever shadows were still to be found. Goemon is there with Lupin, so he could afford to take a moment off to get his bearings. And a moment to close his eyes, just for a second to will the pain away. He heard the dull boom of a smoke bomb as it exploded and he knew Lupin and Goemon had gone. Good, then he could take a few more moments to rest before shooting down the crowd left dumbfounded in the valley. If only his side would stop throbbing like that and sending waves of burning heat through his body. If only his skin wasn’t so clammy and disgusting, sending shivers all over and making his hands shake. With closed eyes he rested his forehead on the cool grass and breathed in the scent of morning dew and damp dirt. It was nice, he’d always been a fan of nature. 

 

Raised voices heatedly debated somewhere close by. Someone was being threatened with death. Blame and accusations were thrown around. Jigen just felt grateful that for once none of that were his problem. He relaxed further, sinking fully onto the ground flat on his stomach. Actually, it didn’t hurt so bad, a good rest and he’d be fine in a couple of hours. 

A sound familiar to him that he didn’t care to place sounded close to him, followed by silence. The world got brighter. Dawn was breaking. The silence meant something, he’d been too slow to get his job done and now the targets were gone. Oh well, he’d get better and then go after them. 

Distantly he recognised that there were sounds and noises around him once again. His body felt numb but his brain insisted that he was floating, making him nauseous. He was in the backseat of a small two person aeroplane, Lupin diving and flying in loops. He was on a stormy sea, pulled under by the waves and flung this way and that by the currents, trying to figure out which way was up. 

He was on the ground on his back and someone had mistaken him for cattle and was currently branding his abdomen with a hotter than hell branding iron. Jigen’s eyes flew open and as he properly started seeing the real world again he also started hearing it. His own screams filled his ears and blood rose up his throat. He choked on it and violently coughed, splattering blood over his lips and beard. He struggled to breathe and cough at the same time, both actions amplifying the searing pain radiating from his abdominal area. Some coherency riled back in was all he needed to think enough to look down and try to get rid of whatever was hurting him. 

It was definitively not what his brain had suggested, but whether that was better or worse could be put up for debate. A dirty muddy hand was pressed flat against his stomach to keep him down and another equally as nasty had its index finger shoved as deep as it could reach into his bullet wound, digging around and causing unnecessary amounts of damage just to wake him up. Jigen’s hands that had been resting on the ground flew up and grabbed the wrists of his tormentor without him having to tell them to do so. He looked up and found the mans face. Every single aspect of him was average, scruffy in a forgettable way, no soul or humanity in his eyes. The man was barely even wearing an expression on his face, so bland was he. 

Jigen took the mans face in and snapped his mouth shut with a clank of his teeth to keep his screams down. A cold breeze caressed his face and he felt wetness all over, blood around his mouth and tears pouring from his eyes. He wasn’t crying but the tears kept falling nonetheless, an embarrassing response to pain that he’d always had and never seemed quite able to shake. His hands shook, even clasped around the mans arms as they were. 

Since he woke up his vision had been narrowed down to what was immediately in front of him, now more awake he became aware that he was laid down closer to the centre of the valley than he’d gone himself. He must’ve briefly passed out on the grass and been found out and dragged over to the circle of henchmen. 

While Jigen took stock of his situation his tormentor withdrew his finger. He did keep his mouth shut but could not stop the anguished noises from escaping through his lips. The man rose up and yanked his arms out of Jigen’s grasp unceremoniously before wiping his hand off on his pants. Jigen placed his hands over his aggravated and undoubtedly now infected wound and waited. His gun had been taken and Lupin and Goemon were gone unaware of his current predicament. What could possibly go wrong. 

A pair of shiny shoes stepped forward and entered his swimming field of vision. They walked right up next to his chest, the toes of the shoes nearly poking him in the ribs, and stopped there. 

“Jigen Daisuke,” the President spoke. 

“Mr President,” Jigen wheezed back. 

“This is an anticlimactic way to meet the man behind the legend. Did you know I almost contacted you regarding a bodyguard position seven years back? I sent the word out and everything before taking it back, I found someone else available much sooner. Back then I was worried what my hurry might cost me, but now I’m glad it turned out that way. Who knows if I’d still be here otherwise,” the President gave him a pointed look, “what with you having taken up partnership with a clown and all. I’m not sure how you expect to be taken seriously,” he concluded. 

Taking jabs at each others professionalism and choice in partners was not something Jigen was willing to waste his last breaths on, so he kept quiet. The President waited a little while for him to say something, but when it became obvious he wasn’t about to he went on himself. 

“Your boss,” he rolled his eyes at the word as if the mere thought of Lupin as any kind of competent leader was absurd, “did something. At first I wrote it off as another of his annoying tics, but then he did it again and before I knew it his dogs came running,” the President pursed his lips after finishing his statement and looked like a real asshole. 

Oh, he’s an original guy then, again with the dog simile? Why did it always have to come to this? Jigen couldn’t help but glare, he really hated the dog metaphor. 

“You came running to your master, and now you get to die for him, but what have you got to show for it? Have you even seen your prize yet, Jigen?” The President turned around and motioned to one of the men behind him. 

The way he’d called him by his name like that, in that patronising voice as if he was a sad character who’d never get a happy ending really grated on Jigen’s nerves. Give me seven henchmen and let’s see who’s a tough guy he couldn’t help but think. He still didn’t waste his breath on bantering though. The President turned back to him with an object in hand. 

“Et voilà, the Viking idol. You came so close yet it’s so far away,” he wiggled the thing in the air above Jigen’s face, and for the first time he got to look at it. It was an ugly thing for sure, only slightly bigger than a large mans palm, made of iron and had seen better days. It was shaped like a stout human with its legs together and arms laid flat against its sides. Fairly simple in design but for the ridiculous eyes. 

“Take a good look Jigen, it’s the last thing you’ll see,” the President was saying above him, but Jigen barely heard him. Something about those eyes was drawing him in, almost hypnotic. He squinted as he looked deep into those grey flat eyes and everything else seemed to fade away. 

_He was on his feet again, running over muddy ground through the rain. He let out a cry and was answered by a hundred voices who were right there with him. He held a shield in one hand and a sword in the other. Him and his fellow clansmen stormed the poorly protected village, just another place to lay under siege to act as a future rest stop. He kicked the door of the biggest home in but took barely a step over the threshold before a liquid was thrown in his face and soon after a burning piece of wood. His entire front was set aflame even though he’d been soaked to the bone by the rain, his face was burning and melting, his clothes fusing to his charring skin-_

_He had been sailing the sea for months, going strange far places and only yesterday setting foot on land again. This land was different from his own, warmer and drier, there were tall trees with huge leafs, each bearing tons of dark sweet fruits. Merchants sold spices in alarmingly bright colours that tasted like nothing they had at home. Jewellery so delicate and shiny it must’ve taken a generation to craft. In this land they didn’t raid, they traded. They brought with them furs and iron in exchange for these luxuries. The natives greeted him and he tried to copy them, sah-laam al- allaykom… and they would laugh at him and he’d laugh too and teach them to say-_

_He was newly married to a beautiful plump gal, he sat next to her and watched as she received wedding gifts. His mother in law gifted them a household cat, still a newborn kitten, which his new wife took and put in her lap. She petted it softly and he thought about how he’d married the best maiden for miles around. They had talked to each other and courted for years and he knew how much knowledge she held of money, animals, household management, battle, and all the secrets nature held. Some of these things they had in common, and others were things she brought with her to their new family which would benefit them greatly-_

_He was someplace new, but familiar. Faces he’d never seen before felt like family members, while others belonged to those he hadn’t seen in years, and they invited him to sit at their table. The table was so long he could not see either end of it, but that was no matter. He sat down between two celebrating men and found that he already held mead in his hand and was eating food that never ran out or went cold. The eternal hall was warm and well lit, decorated as if by divinity, and some of the men and women glowed, and they seemed the most jovial of them all-_

“He’s out of it boss, lemme wake him up again-“ 

“Never mind that, I’ll just kick the fucking canine-“ 

The voices of the real world cut in as Jigen came back to his senses, not sure how long he’d been out or where he’d been. One thing he felt strongly though was the absence of the idol’s gaze. Of course he couldn’t know but, he felt as if he’d only been away for as long as he’d held its gaze, and the moment it was removed from his sight he’d snapped back to reality. It felt like abstinence, the same as when he really was craving some nicotine. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Jigen groaned, he felt disoriented but… refreshed, invigorated even, “At least a dog knows loyalty and can be trusted unlike some megalomaniacal bastard with an inferiority complex so bad he has to call himself the President to feel a shred of confidence.” 

The boiling rage on the President’s face at his sudden speech was reward enough to have him bark out a weak laugh. If his mad face had been due to being interrupted or the words themselves he didn’t care, as long as he’d gotten under his skin. 

Jigen had prepared for some kind of punishment for his statement, but not quite the extreme one he got. The President had a quick draw, he had to admit, although it was hard to focus his thoughts on anything else but the new pain blossoming in his chest. Shot in the lung point blank really did pack a punch along with the piercing of one’s skin and organs. He had been lucky enough to never have had a punctured lung before, but from descriptions he’d heard of it and considering the physical trauma his body was experiencing, this was it. He instinctively tried to breathe in but couldn’t. The breath just wouldn’t fit in his lungs anymore. He gasped but came up short there too, not even the smallest amount of air was allowed in anymore. Panic started to rise in his gut, if he didn’t get help soon he’d really die, this would be the end of him. 

“You seem to be comfortable in your role in the world as a mongrel. I suppose it’s only fitting for someone who lived as a dog to be shot like a dog. At least you didn’t try to feed me any bullshit about your boss avenging you, I hate that shit. And we both know it wouldn’t have been true anyway,” the President calmly said, unconcerned by Jigen’s laboured slow movements and painful almost-but-not-quite breaths, “any last words from the worlds foremost gunman?” He looked Jigen in the eyes and seemed to enjoy his pain and fading consciousness. 

“I guess not.” 

Jigen saw a leather-gloved hand reach out to the President but never knew what happened when the hand reached his shoulder. He was no longer part of this world as a third bullet embedded itself into his body, almost perfectly centered between his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

The first rays of sunlight gently shone through the big windows of their hotel room. On the couch in front of the tv Lupin sat with his pants off with a couple of layers worth of white hotel towels underneath his leg, gritting his teeth as he carefully sewed his thigh shut. Morning had arrived simultaneously as he and Goemon returned to the hotel from the less than ideal outcome of their attempted heist. He had known from the beginning from years of experience that stealing from another criminal would mean higher risks than say a museum, as a museum would be protected by guards less inclined to shoot on sight and more likely to call the police, giving him ample time to get away. Criminals on the other hand shot without inhibitions. And apparently called the police too while they were at it, that had been a surprise.

Besides grabbing him around the waist and hauling him away held tightly under his arm under the cover created by a smoke bomb, Goemon hadn’t been very sympathetic. He’d hauled Lupin back to the car, dangling under his arm like an improperly carried dog with his arms and legs swinging, where he deposited him in the passenger seat before driving away with the headlights turned off. In the city life had started once again, and they had not been followed so they slowed down and turned the lights on. Most of the activity clustered to and from the train station which they passed on their way back to the hotel. As they passed by Lupin looked at all these people who had no idea what had happened early this morning in their relatively quiet city. They had no clue that their history had been unearthed and fought over, even claimed lives, or that it was nowhere near over yet.

Lupin tied off the thread and cut it as close to the knot as he could get with a pair of dull kitchen scissors courtesy of the hotel. Getting the bullet out of a deep flesh wound was never fun, but the slow process of repeatedly piercing your own irritated skin with a tiny sharp object and pulling a thread, causing a burning sensation, through the already tender area was no game either.

When he was done he put his tools down on the side table which also had a towel thrown over it to prevent any bloodstains. He’d take some painkillers and spend the day trying to figure out how to proceed from here going forward. He needed to figure out where the President was staying, how long he’d be there and when the best time to strike again would be.

Although, he could take an hour or two off before springing back into action, to let his wound settle and have time to take a nap and a shower. By now, or soon enough, he should be contacted by his source who no doubt already knew about the events of this morning. A tingling sensation momentarily ran through him just thinking about her. Fujiko had contacted him asking for a favour some weeks prior,  _please make sure the President doesn’t get to it before I do, ok_ _ay_ _sweetheart?_  and how was he supposed to say no to such a simple request? Especially when the requestee had a voice so sweet and innocent, yet alluring and promising of rewards. The job also could not have come at a better time as he was running low on funds after spending it all with Jigen on every pleasure available in a ten mile radius at the heart of some city he could not even remember the name of anymore. There had been good alcohol though. 

He sighed and rubbed at his eyes, usually after a heist he’d feel invincible, high on adrenaline and ready to go another round just for the hell of it. Not so much so when the heist went this poorly. He put his hands in his lap and looked at the tv through drooping eyelids. Commercials and children’s shows mostly this early in the day, all spoken with words he couldn’t understand even though he as one of the three guys in their core gang spoke the most languages. 

Lupin sat and stared anyway, too drained from lack of sleep and blood to bother with grabbing the remote control to change the channel. The commercials ended and the happy green dragon, obviously a person in a suit, came back on. The dragon bounced with excitement, inviting the viewer into his house. He led the viewer to the kitchen where three plates of food stood ready on the table. The dragon seemed hesitant what food to eat for breakfast. 

Lupins stomach let out a loud rumbling growl at the sight of food, surprising himself. He hadn’t felt hungry but come to think of it, the last time he ate must’ve been about six hours before they drove over the Oresund Bridge from Denmark to Sweden.

Breakfast sounded like a good idea, and Lupin stood up to go see what the hotel had to offer. Halfway through the motion his leg cramped and he drew in a sharp breath in pain before sinking back down into the couch. He had forgotten he wasn’t in any shape to go anywhere before getting some strong painkillers in his system.

Goemon had left Lupin to see to himself on the couch some time ago and gone to the bathroom to clean himself up. Poor guy usually didn’t take that much damage without dealing tenfold himself, and yet the watchman had returned unharmed. That was a mystery to solve later, when his belly wasn’t aching in a manner rivalling the throbbing wound in his thigh. Goemon had mostly taken some damage to the face and would heal soon enough, just slap some ice on that bruise and watch him return to his former boyish charms in no time. His ego would take longer to heal, it was most likely the reason he’d acted a little bit stiffly around Lupin once they’d reached the car. He was ashamed of their failure and needed time alone before warming up to other people again. 

As Lupin thought about the mornings events leading up to the present, the bathroom door opened and Goemon stepped out with a towel around his hips, a cloud of steam hanging onto him for the first few steps he took into the significantly cooler living room area. He sat down on the floor behind the couch with his back resting against it. 

Lupin tried craning his neck to look over and behind the backrest of the sofa at Goemon, but found the angle too uncomfortable and rearranged himself to sit on his knees on the pads and leaning his chest against the backrest to look down at Goemon. Goemon’s pose and relaxed expression gave off the appearance that he was attempting to meditate, but Lupin knew him better than that. He could tell Goemon wanted to talk to him, but was holding back. Lupin placed his left hand atop Goemon’s wet hair. 

“What a morning, huh? Hey, you better not have used up all the hot water.”

“Lupin, of all the places we’ve stayed, this hotel is one of the nicer ones. I could not use up all the hot water if I tried.”

“Yes you could Goemon, I believe in you!” 

Goemon huffed and swatted Lupin’s hand off of his head, “have you heard any news yet? Fujiko should’ve been in contact seeing as how she is the reason we’re on this job,” Goemon turned his head up as he spoke to look back at Lupin. 

“So you’ve figured that out,” Lupin answered and rested his chin atop the backrest, “well, I haven’t heard from her yet and I  _guess_  it is possible she hasn’t gotten the news of what happened yet but I highly doubt it. Maybe she’s just tied up at the moment. Either way, that gives us some time to relax so enjoy it while it lasts.” 

Goemon held Lupin’s gaze steady and considered wether to tell him about Fujiko or not, but before reaching a decision something more important that he’d dwelled on in the shower came to mind. 

“Lupin, I cannot help but notice-“

Lupin’s stomach let out another loud growl cutting Goemon off mid-sentence, “yeah I was just now thinking about breakfast too,” Lupin said and sat back down on the sofa and disappearing from Goemon’s sight, “and I was gonna go get some too but, my leg, you know,” he finished and shrugged, the implication that Goemon should get them both breakfast hanging in the air. 

Goemon disapproved of speaking to the back of the sofa so he rose and rounded it to face Lupin again, “no Lupin, what I wanted to bring up was the fact that we haven’t heard from-“

“Oh! The Swedish police or news!” Lupin interrupted once again, “yeah, you’d think by now they’d gone to investigate, but I’ve been keeping an eye on the tv ever since we got here and there’s been nothing yet.”

Goemon looked sternly at Lupin. He’d interrupted him twice without hearing what he had to say, and although he’d fallen silent now, he dreaded trying to bring it up again lest Lupin kept repeating this annoying pattern. He looked at Lupin who half sat half lay sprawled over three quarters of the sofa, lazily keeping an eye on the tv. 

Goemon took a breath in preparation for a final try, “we left Jigen,” was what he got out before Lupin opened his mouth again, but he would not let himself be interrupted this time, “and he has not come back yet, nor have we heard from him  _or_  Fujiko,” he curtly stated to cut off any interjections, “and I feel that might be a bad omen,” he finished. 

Lupin lifted his head to look Goemon in the eyes, “he’s a grown man, Goemon, and rarely has he been in need of rescue. I’m sure he’s fine, but if it’d make you feel better I’ll look into it,” Lupin straightened up and lowered his tone in a theatrical manner, “but only if you get us breakfast first.” 

Why he always had to act silly like that, playing down Goemon’s not at all unfounded concern for their partner by making breakfast sound like a higher priority was beyond him. The excited blubbering and squeaking from the dragon on tv wasn’t helping either. In a brief flash of anger Goemon snatched up the remote from Lupin’s side and spun around to turn the device off. Lupin let out a  _hey!_  but Goemon had caught sight of something that gave him pause. 

Lupin tried to stand balanced on his healthy leg and reach for the remote but Goemon easily held it out of his reach while his brain did some translating. After a second he gave Lupin a light push to send him plummeting back into the couch before pointing at the upper corner of the screen. 

“It seems to me the reason why you haven’t heard any news from the local police nor media is plain as day” Goemon said and lowered his hand again. Lupin glowered at him briefly before turning to look at the tv. Goemon had pointed at the channel logo discreetly displayed in the corner. 

“And why is that then,” Lupin muttered, crossing his arms. 

“‘ _Barn_ _kanalen_ _’_ ,” Goemon read, “I can only assume that the Swedish word  _barn_ , in this context at least, holds a similar meaning as the Scottish word  _bairn_ , rather than any similarities to the English  _barn._ You have been watching nothing but children’s shows all morning. This is not because nothing else is being aired, but because you are watching the children’s channel,” Goemon threw the remote back onto the sofa and turned back to Lupin, “maybe you were correct about the importance of a good breakfast. Exhaustion is clearly taking its toll. After some food and rest we’ll get back to work, you will contact Fujiko and I will search for Jigen,” Goemon said. He rarely took pleasure in ridiculing others, but would have loved to stay and gloat at that moment. He didn’t though, instead he headed to the single bedroom where they all had their bags tucked away to get dressed.

Goemon closed the door behind him with a soft click. Lupin sat still on the sofa.

_Barn, bairn,_  Lupin thought. How stupid. The lack-of-blood related lightheadedness really had gotten to him worse than he’d realised. 

Goemon emerged from the bedroom fully dried and dressed soon after in his traditional clothing, fresh and unripped ones, and headed for the door to find some acceptable sustenance for the both of them, and maybe some coffee too because he was feeling generous this morning. He noted that Lupin still had not moved a muscle but sat still with his eyes fixed on the tv, maybe even swaying a bit. Upon seeing him like that Goemon felt some guilt at having exploited his friends’ weakened state to show him up. He’d make up for it by bringing the best breakfast he could find, and indeed coffee too.

Lupin waited to reach for the remote until Goemon had left their hotel room. He grabbed ahold of it and harshly pressed the button with a 1 on it and the channels changed, now displaying a simple 1 in the upper corner telling him he’d landed on channel one. 

“ _‘Kanal_ _’_  one,” he corrected himself as he glared at the number and watched. Currently the news were on so he leaned back and tried to pick up on any key words that might tell him what was going on.

An elderly man was being interviewed outside, behind him there looked to be open fields and even further in the background were woods similar to the ones Lupin had parked by earlier that morning. The man spoke calmly for a minute, Lupin could pick out the word  _vapen_ ,  _weapon_ , before turning to point to his left,  _pang, pang,_  he was saying. The camera followed his outstretched hand and showed the open sky before the visuals cut to a prerecorded video of the same part of the sky, from earlier in the morning when it was still slightly dark out. The red flare shot by the watchman had been caught on video, presumably by the farmer himself, but it was faded and had been taped some time after the flare was shot. 

The visuals cut from the video and back to the studio where a woman was sat with a police officer behind a large desk. She turned to him and started asking questions. She said the word  _kropp_  and Lupin’s brain did a couple of jumps through excessively difficult loops, possibly the word might be related to the French  _corps_ ,  _body_. He furrowed his brow and reached for his phone. He wouldn’t get far trying to decipher the news by maybe semi-accurately translating a couple of words. There had to be more information online, already translated and ready to go. After some searching he found a newspapers site that offered the option to translate the site into English. Lupin chose the most recent article, published only a few minutes ago and started reading. 

_Early this morning the police received a call from a local farmer concerned that criminal activity was taking place just a few kilometres_ _north_ _of_ _his farm._ _The farmer reported that he had heard multiple gunshots over an extended timeframe_ _and_ _urgently_ _requested immediate police presence._ _Soon after the call had been made the same farmer noticed a red_ _glow coming in through his windows. When the light subsided he_ _reportedly_ _ventured outside and filmed what appear_ _s_ _to be a_ _fading_ _emergency flare._ _The video can be viewed-_

Lupin read the retelling of the morning from the farmers’ perspective with half his attention still on the tv. There was nothing new to be learned, the police had arrived at the scene and taped off the area around the robbed grave and the entire general area was temporarily unavailable to the public. As was expected. Lupin tossed his phone to the side and reached for the tv remote, if he couldn’t understand there was no point in watching. Just as he was about to press the off button the picture cut to a familiar face and the female reporter uttered the acronym ICPO. 

“Incredible,” Lupin breathed as he watched on with round eyes and his arm still outstretched clasping the remote, “Pops really is on top of his game this time. It has barely been an hour, and he found us.” 

On the tv the strong features of none other than Inspector Zenigata were closely zoomed in on, the determination ever present on his face and fiery glow in his eyes. He was not chatting live with the reporter like the police officer with her in the studio, it was a video recorded by the French press of Zenigata declaring his certainty that Lupin III was indeed behind the recent heist in the north, and that he, Zenigata, would be on his way to investigate immediately. 

“Welcome aboard Pops, stay safe,” Lupin said to the tv screen as he finally turned it off. Having Pops around might prove to be advantageous or a hindrance, it all depended on circumstances. Either way, Lupin couldn’t help but turn the corners of his mouth up at the thought of having him around. It felt like everything would be alright once all the usual players were on the field. 

Satisfied for now with the information he’d acquired, Lupin took a deep breath and held it as he gingerly stood up. His wound strained against his stitches and burned but did not nearly cause him to topple over like before. Good enough, he thought as he started on his way to the only bedroom to finally retrieve those painkillers from his bag. He made it there and stood over his bag, which he’d left on the floor, trying to figure out how he would get himself down to its level. And perhaps more importantly, how he would get up again. It seemed like a simple task with a simple solution, just bend at the hip and pick it up. But it was far from that simple because wether he bent at the hip or bent his knees his thighs would be involved in the movement, and any type of movement at this moment was to be avoided at all costs lest he wanted to rip his stitches and have to go through another session of self surgery. 

Lupin pondered over the best way to go about doing this, perhaps if he found something to grab the straps with to lift it up, if they’d only had a cane or an umbrella. Or maybe even Zantetsuken would do, if he was very precise with his actions. He looked around the bedroom and spotted the sword resting on the bed, mercifully Goemon had had the sense to leave it in their room rather than bring it with him to get breakfast. Goemon had still dressed in his usual attire though, maybe he’d have to have a talk with him about that, now that Zenigata was on his way they needed more than ever to go unnoticed. 

Lupin limped over and grabbed the sword in its sheath. Yes, it would do just fine. Smiling at his own ingenuity Lupin turned around to hobble back to his bag. Instead he started at the sight of Goemon standing in the doorway of the bedroom, holding a tray with cups and breakfastfoods, the surprise enough to make Lupin put too much weight on his right leg and consequently making him fall back onto the bed. 

“Ow!” he complained, “Goemon don’t scare me like that! God, I need to put a bell on you,” Lupin said and relaxed on the soft mattress. He wouldn’t be needing Zantetsuken anymore, now that Goemon was back he could fish the pills up for him. 

“I did not mean to startle you. What are you doing with Zantetsuken?” Goemon asked entering the room to put the tray down on the floor in front of Lupin’s feet as he sat down on the floor opposite of him. 

“Well, I was gonna use it to go noodling, but I think it’d be better if you did it for me. Whatcha got there?” Lupin asked and leaned forward to eye the food appreciatively. 

“If you were to use Zantetsuken you would not be noodling. Ham and cheese sandwiches, boiled eggs, oatmeal with milk and honey, cereal, and pancakes. Sadly they were not willing to honour my request for a simple bowl of rice,” Goemon answered and handed Lupin a cup of coffee before pouring himself tea from a small pot. Lupin held the steaming cup under his nose and breathed in the smell. A little too dark for him, he usually takes his coffee white. 

“You forgot the milk,” Lupin complained as he took the first sip. 

“Hm. I must’ve confused your and Jigen’s preferences,” Goemon answered and took the first sip of his tea while casually looking up at Lupin through his fringe. The hot beverage burned at the bite marks on his tongue but he suppressed the wince in order to seem nonchalant. 

“Please, you  _know_  I take it white and he likes it  _black_ -“ Lupin cut himself off and looked down at Goemon who just closed his eyes and continued drinking his tea. 

“Oh I see what this is, you think I didn’t look into Jigen’s situation like you asked me to,” Lupin accused. 

“Did you?” Goemon countered. 

“Of course I did! I watched the news and,  _and_  did you know Pops is onto us already, hm? He’s flying over right now.” 

“Were he not on our trail I would have reason to worry for him too. And Jigen? And Fujiko?”

“They-!” Lupin stopped because god damn it he had forgotten. He never did try to call Fujiko or Jigen, seeing Pops on tv had thrown him off. And his leg was also to blame for distracting him.

“Just bring me my phone,” Lupin grumbled in defeat, “and grab the good drugs on your way back in! They’re at the bottom of my bag!” He shouted needlessly loud at Goemon’s back when he exited the bedroom to retrieve Lupin’s phone. 

Lupin carefully took another sip of his bitter cup of coffee. He doesn’t actually mind it being black, it’s just a bit strong and so he usually prefers the taste to be mellowed out, but this time he could use the kick. 

Goemon returned shortly with Lupin’s phone in hand. He handed it over and sat back down on the floor to continue drinking his tea. Lupin just barely stopped himself in time from reminding him to fetch the painkillers, but held his tongue. If he hassled Goemon about them he’d just get a pointed look and a comment along the lines of  _you do what you said you’d do, and I’ll do what I said_ _I’d_ _do_. 

He unlocked his phone to call Jigen, Fujiko would require some sleuthing first to even find out what number she currently was using. If he could ever find it. His phone opened up to the news site he’d previously visited and it automatically updated itself. 

_Crime scene after_ _morning_ _shootout in Old Town to be ‘left alone’ until_ _international_ _investigator_ _arrive_ _s_ , the new headline dramatically read. Although Lupin already knew, intimately, who this international investigator was they were waiting for he skimmed the article in case it held new information. For the most part it was just the same content as before, except for one thing. 

“Hey, the local police are actually gonna wait until Pops arrives before they mess with the scene,” he told Goemon, “and according to this he won’t arrive until tomorrow morning at the earliest, that means we’ll have plenty of time to go back and pick Jigen up if he’s still there without too much of a ruckus.” 

“Good news indeed, if Jigen is still to be found in the area,” Goemon answered. 

“I’m sure he just got lost in the woods and wandered away from the city rather than toward it. The man’s competent in all ways but one; he could not find his own shadow on a sunny day!” Lupin laughed and exited the site to call said incompetent partner. 

Goemon didn’t deign the insult with a reply, instead choosing to hide his smile behind his teacup. He still felt unease at the radio silence but could not deny that Jigen, however talented in other ways, lacked any sense of direction and that it had caused many a situation before. 

Lupin still snickered as the phone rang, the monotonous tone sounding every few seconds without an answer. His face fell back into neutral a few tones later when the robotised voice informed him that the caller he was attempting to reach was unavailable. He briefly stared the screen of his phone down before jabbing at it to hang up. 

“No luck, and it’ll take me a hot minute to track down Fujiko’s number,” he said. 

“Then I will have to return to the gravesite,” Goemon declared whilst simultaneously standing up, “I will take my leave immediately.

“No, no! Sit down Goemon, sit! If either of us goes back it’ll be me because you draw attention like ants to an unattended can of soda. And furthermore the place is crawling with cops right now, they just got there!” Lupin rationalised and waved his hand in a motion indicating for Goemon to sit back down, “look, I’ll call Fuji-cakes, take a nap, plan our next hit against the President, after I figure out where he is, then drive back out there late tonight when the security has been relaxed but  _before_  Pops arrives.”

“You cannot realistically expect me to remain idle for hours on end when we know nothing for certain except that we cannot reach either one of the two persons who might tell us what took place on the other side of the city,” Goemon said with a frown and remained standing. 

Lupin pressed his lips together in a flat line and looked at Goemon. He’d have to give him a good enough excuse to make him stay away from the gravesite without making it sound like an excuse. Lupin slightly squinted his eyes in thought. If Goemon wasn’t so insistent on adhering to tradition and kept on wearing those outdated outfits he would happily have sent him out in his own place, would’ve saved himself the trouble with a leg in this condition. But as things stood, wherever they went Goemon would always draw eyes to himself for better or worse. The man was a beacon demanding attention without even knowing he was doing it. 

“You know, if Jigen got lost in those woods he must’ve gone northeast,” Lupin finally said. 

Goemon’s furrowed brows lifted and his eyes relaxed their intense look. He had his attention. 

“Elaborate, please,” Goemon said.

“Because of the river,” Lupin began, “Say Jigen lost his way and picks a direction at random. If he started walking south he’d head directly back to the city and probably would’ve been back by now. Same goes if he had headed west, then he would eventually have reached the river, known to follow it downstream and arrived back in the city. Had he gone east he would’ve been lost in the woods for awhile before reaching one of the many fields we saw on our way out there, from which the city church’s towers easily can be spotted and used as a landmark. The only direction for him to pick and truly get lost in would be northeast, seeing as how if he went straight north he’d still bump into the river at one point or another as rivers are never completely straight. In the northeast though there’s nothing to point him in the right direction. Now, maybe he did go north and just haven’t run into the river yet, we can’t know for sure, but our safest bet would be to start looking northeast of the gravesite,” Lupin finished his surprisingly solid lie with a sigh. There was nothing objectively false about it, and had they been looking for anyone else it definitively would’ve been his go-to plan. But because it was Jigen he had a feeling that a different approach, one he would apply himself as soon as Goemon had gone, would yield better results. 

Goemon mulled over Lupin’s logic for a moment, considering the sheer area of woods he would have to cover whilst gradually moving further west until he found their partner. It would take hours with a one-man search party consisting entirely of himself. There was one thing left though that Lupin had not reasoned out, “that still does not tell us why he didn’t answer his phone.”

“Maybe he lost it or it’s dead, I don’t know! God, Goe! You’re killing me here!” Lupin threw his hands in the air in a moment of thoughtlessness before remembering he was still holding a half full cup of coffee and struggled to avoid spilling the hot drink all over himself. After he’d ascertained his grip on the cup was secure once again he looked back up at Goemon and pointed an accusing finger at him, “I don’t expect you to ‘remain idle’ or whatever, but do not go back there before I give you the all-clear! And I mean it! Just meditate and send him your thoughts and prayers or something,” Lupin lowered his hand and took another sip. 

Goemon looked down at him for a moment. Maybe Lupin was right about waiting for darkness to fall. Usually he did have everyone’s best at heart even if his methods seemed unconventional. Usually. 

Goemon decided to put his trust in Lupin this time, as many other times before, gave him a nod and exited the bedroom. Even if he agreed to stick to the plan, it didn’t mean he had to approve of it, and he needed some space to meditate over the matter. 

As Goemon left the bedroom Lupin sighed into his cup. Although Goemon is not dumb he is credulous and gullible. At least it played right into his hands this time. 

Lupin kept drinking his coffee, feeling relaxed for the first time this morning. All he had left to do now until tonight was to try and call Fujiko, which would most likely be a dead end, then he could nap before heading back to the gravesite. 

He finished his cup and bent down to set it on the tray on the floor.  _Before laying down to rest_ _I_ _ought to take a quick shower and change out of these dirty clothes_ , he thought as he caught sight of his own muddy and grass stained sleeve. Looking forward to feeling clean and well rested Lupin swiftly stood up to fetch a towel, only to feel like a crab was pinching at his nerves with all its might and making him unsteadily fall to his knee. The landing was soft and mushy, and looking down at his knee revealed why. He’d stuck the landing straight into the bowl of oatmeal. 

“Goe-!” Lupin stopped before getting the rest out. Goemon had neglected to fetch him the painkillers after all, but then again, Goemon was less than pleased with his directives and he did not want to boss him around any further lest he decided to follow through with his own plans instead. 

Using the bed to heave himself up again Lupin swore and reached for Zantetsuken. It seemed like he’d have to find out if his previous idea would work or not after all. 

-

The day had dragged on by and despite his best efforts Lupin had not been able to contact Fujiko. As soon as dusk fell he’d given Goemon the all-clear to head out and scour the woods. For his own part Lupin took the car and retraced their steps from the previous morning, all the way back to the spot where they had previously parked. 

Lupin left the car in the same spot as before and continued on foot with a limping gait. He shortly covered the distance and reached the other side of the woods. It immediately became obvious that the area was no longer open to the public. Two police cars as well as an ambulance stood parked nearby the small church, and yellow caution tape wrapped around the whole area as far as he could tell. As much as his curious nature begged him to sidle off to the left toward the heart of the scene to take a look, that was not currently the most pressing matter. Instead he turned back into the woods to start the search for his partner. 

The atmosphere was calm and peaceful but for the incessant twittering of smaller birds and answering caws of crows. Lupin took his time slowly shuffling through thick growth and hopping down large rocks meticulously making his way through the woods around the gravesite, carefully staying out of sight from anyone on the site. 

He continued his search, even going so far as looking up among the trees just in case for whatever reason Jigen was to be found perched on a branch, until the last rays of the sun were completely gone and the woods sunken in darkness. Even then he continued on for another half hour in the pitch black, getting further and further from where he had expected to find Jigen. There were no signs to imply Jigen had been there. Lupin huffed in defeat and turned back the way he’d come. 

He passed behind the church and rounded it on his way back to his original spot of entry, carefully lifting the yellow tape above his head to pass underneath it. He allowed himself one final glance around. The two parked police cars were still there as well as the ambulance. Even so, there was no noise to be heard or working people to be seen. Lupin let the tape down again without crossing it. At this hour the majority of the police officers would’ve been relieved of their duty and free to go home for the night, as the collecting of evidence and preservation and recording of the crime scene would be mostly done, and from now on simply guarded until Zenigata arrived. Lupin stayed standing where he was and bit his lip in thought. It was getting late and Pops might show up early, and he wanted to be gone before then. On the other hand it was only  _late_  but not quite yet  _early_ , and so he should have some time to spare before that happened. 

Lupin worried at his lip some more. What could be gained versus what could be lost? He did not think it was so, but at the back of his mind the thought that maybe Jigen never made it away from the scene had manifested, maybe Goemon’s gut-feeling had been right. By going and taking a peek he’d know. If he didn’t go, and neither him nor Goemon found Jigen they would never know. Or rather, they wouldn’t know until he hacked into the police’s system which really isn’t that hard, but it’s even less hard to just toddle on over and look for himself right now. 

Lupin silently took off in the direction of the excavation site. 

-

The valley of the plundered grave was despite the late hour still filled with activity. Police officers patrolled the area, forensic scientists and others took photos of every nook and cranny while being mindful not to disturb a centimetre of the scene, bagging evidence, taking samples and following procedure. 

Lupin had to take a real detour around the valleys north of the grave as one goon had been shot in between the valley of the grave and its neighbour, and another in a valley even further north, and therefore there was a lot of people about doing their jobs. He expertly avoided being detected by them all while also getting a decent look at the second goon. Forensics had pulled a tarp over the first man, but this one was still being photographed. Despite the mans grey shirt it wasn’t hard to make out the dark stain covering most of his chest. A perfect shot had been the end of this poor bastard. 

Lupin continued on to the valley of the grave. Much like last night, or morning, he crept up behind a hill before climbing it, relying on the dark to keep his presence a secret. From his vantage point he had the gutted hill in front of him on the other side of the valley and a good view of everything. 

The grave stood gaping open and the dirt that had for so long protected the soul entrusted to it lay in heaps to the left and right of the entrance. One small pile of dirt had been particularly flattened down and strewn about. After a moments thought Lupin realised that was where the watchman had slammed down when he made his reappearance. 

Although some energy was dedicated to the grave, most of it clustered in the centre of the valley. There the chopped up dirtbike still lay, just by looking at it Lupin felt the weight of it crushing him again. For a thing designed to be lightweight it felt anything but when it was thrown on top of you and squeezed and poked at your fresh bullet wound. Lupin blinked the memory away. Right there by the single wheel the bike had had left he could just about make out the residue of his smoke bomb.  

So far everything was just as he remembered, but for the covered body. Some meters away from the bike, closer to his hill, there was a body on the ground covered by a white plastic tarp just like the first goon. Either Jigen had come back to the valley after he and Goemon had already left to take care of his targets and gotten one before retreating, or this was…

Well, he was about to find out. Two forensics, one of which carried a camera, approached the body. They chatted with a fellow who had been by the body the entire time and gestured, indicating they wanted to remove the tarp covering the face to take more photos. Lupin dug his fingertips into the earth and held his breath. 

They’d made their intentions clear but kept on just talking. The one who’d been by the body pulled out a notepad and flipped through it to find some observation he’d jotted down. They talked and discussed. The man with the notepad pointed in an arching motion, indicating the body around the grave, then made a larger arch while pointing, indicating the second body. He laid his palm against his chest and made small circular motions, then lowered it until it rested over his abdomen. 

Lupin had to suck in a new breath, this was taking too long! The suspense was unbearable, just reveal this man’s damn face so he could affirm that it wasn’t Jigen, go back into the woods to find him sitting there on a stump smoking and take him back to the hotel!

The notepad forensic nodded at the body at his feet. He pointed at his forehead, upper arm, chest and abdomen. The man then finally crouched down next to the body’s head and readied to lift the tarp up. He gave his colleagues one final look and held one hand up, palm flat and facing them, in a  _brace yourselves_  kind of gesture. 

The notepad forensic grabbed the edges of the tarp, the man with the camera prepared for the shot and the third observed. 

“ICPO! LET ME THROUGH!” A voice boomed, visibly startling everyone on the site. In the distance a dog started barking. 

A police officer tried to keep up with the brisk pace of Inspector Zenigata who had just arrived, early, to the crime scene. The officer wasn’t having much luck, not with keeping up nor with trying to explain the situation to this outsider. 

“There’s nothing inconclusive about the current evidence!” Zenigata exclaimed with his characteristically loud and strong voice, “an ancient magical artefact has been stolen, a motorcycle has been sliced clean through, and traces of a smoke bomb have been found! This is the work of Lupin and his gang!” He walked right up to the three forensic scientists. 

“Well, according to old tales it is a magical idol but that is hardly conclusive evidence of-“ the officer tried before he was cut off. 

“Two out of three bodies so far have been expertly shot, one bullet each and a quick death! Certainly the work of Lupin’s hired gunman! Now show me this body and I’ll tell you without a doubt-“ Zenigata’s authoritative voice carried clear as a day over the entire valley. When he suddenly stopped in the middle of his sentence the silence that fell was as loud as a scream. 

Zenigata stared at the tarp covered body, but his focus was elsewhere. He felt the stares of every single professional around him, they’d all stopped what they were doing and were looking at him. But it wasn’t them that had given him pause. He could’ve sworn he’d seen  _that_  face in the corner of his eye. Zenigata remained still as a statue. The three forensics and officer leaned in toward him, wondering what this behaviour was about. 

Quick as a snake snapping at its prey Zenigata whipped his head up, the people around him jumping back at the sudden movement. Zenigata gave the darkness and empty air at the top of the hill a long hard look. He saw nothing but grass up there. He squinted and looked harder, not one to be fooled so easily. He knew better than anyone that whenever Lupin was involved nothing ever was what it seemed to be. 

“Sir…” the police officer carefully tried, “is something the matter?”

“No. I’m just seeing shadows,” Zenigata replied and looked back at the tarp. Maybe he was. It had been a long plane ride after all, and before that a lot of paperwork to get him permission to collaborate with the Swedish police on this case so he would have access to their equipment and resources on site rather than have to bring his own, and all that before he could even think about being on his way. Luckily he’d become fluent in bureaucracy after years of chasing Lupin and working with most forces on the planet. It didn’t make it any more enjoyable, but he much preferred having the local force on his side rather than working on his own and watching them on their own, the both of them working out the same things at the same time when they could’ve gotten further along if they’d worked together. 

Or maybe he wasn’t seeing things. Maybe he saw who he thought he saw, and maybe that person was back to retrieve his fallen soldier, and the body under this tarp would be one Zenigata would actually grieve over, if just a little. 

“Well! Lift the tarp already and let’s take a look!” Zenigata said with as steady a voice as he could muster to mask the sudden onslaught of emotions. He tried to discreetly glance up the hill again, but still there was nothing. 

The forensic on the ground rattled off the same information he’d given his colleagues a minute before, describing the man’s appearance, his wounds, items found on the body, Zenigata didn’t really listen too carefully. If this body was indeed one of Lupin’s men he’d have to call in his own backup after all, which meant more paperwork first, and before they arrived and mobilised Lupin would already have made a mess of whichever poor criminal had come after his own. Zenigata briefly closed his eyes and sighed. 

The forensic was still talking with that strange but unobtrusive northern accent. But a lot louder now, and a lot more distantly, and why was he approaching from the right? 

Zenigata opened his eyes. The forensic scientist on the ground was not in fact talking anymore, he and the other men surrounding Zenigata were all looking to the right at the man who was. 

A tall middle aged man with closely shaven hair and a clean face approached the five of them and spoke rapidly in harsh tones. He was dressed as a police, and although Zenigata hadn’t had time to get acquainted with the Swedish uniforms he could guess who this man was. 

The man turned to the officer by Zenigata’s side, supposedly giving him a piece of his mind while occasionally pointing at Zenigata. It might have happened once or twice before that in his haste to arrest Lupin, Zenigata had arrived on foreign soil and forgotten to first announce his arrival to the police chief. It might then be confusing for the local force when a man without uniform who didn’t speak the language turned up and started bossing everyone around. 

“I’m sure this young man doesn’t deserve such reprimand! I’m Inspector Zenigata of the ICPO,” Zenigata said and clasped the police chief’s hand in a firm shake with his right hand and simultaneously pulled out his badge with his left, “I’m expected.”

The police chief turned to him, “you’re  _expected_  to land in three hours!” He bellowed, “why on earth have you not announced your arrival? I realise you are used to relatively free reins but this is unacceptable! Come!” The police chief left go of his hand and instead clasped his shoulder to steer him away from the body. 

“Sir, what is your name?” Zenigata asked. 

“Markus Skog.” 

“My pleasure,” Zenigata said hastily, “police chief Skog, kindly allow me to identify that body first, I have reason to believe-“ 

“The body isn’t going anywhere and we both have laws to abide. There’s a certain way things are done and that’s how we’ll do them. Now come, it’s going to rain,” Markus insisted, and as if on cue a raindrop landed on Zenigata’s shoulder and splashed onto his cheek. So that was why they’d put tarps over the bodies. 

-

Lupin stood at the edge of the woods leaned against a tree trying to catch his breath. He’d sprinted all the way apart from the part he’d crawled pressed as close to the ground as physically possible. As soon as Pops arrived he’d sensed him! He’d almost spotted him! The familiarity of the thrill was somewhat a relief, but being caught now was simply not convenient. He hadn’t gotten to see the face of the third body but he felt sure it couldn’t have been Jigen, it was just Goemon’s paranoia that had rubbed off on him and gotten him to think so. 

It had gotten late enough that the forest was quiet but for the rain that had started falling. There were no more bird songs, no noisy insects and the nightly predators and prey all knew better than to make a sound. Only the soft rustling of leaves as they were hit by raindrops filled the air. A little ways off the outline of the Fiat stood and Lupin hurried over. The rain hitting the roof of the car made hollow thunking noises that almost entirely but not quite drowned out the tiny chirp when he reached for the handle. 

Lupin furrowed his brows and lifted his gaze. On the roof of the car a tiny bird sat and gave him a furious look. It was a bullfinch. It chirped again.

“Sho!” Lupin said and waved his hand. The bird flapped it’s wings enough to carry it back to a safe distance but landed on the roof again. It stared him down provokingly. 

“What?!” He yelled at it, but it held its ground and chirped again. The rain started coming down harder. 

“Oh, is that how you wanna do this? Whatcha think about this huh!” Lupin yelled at it and shoved two fingers into his mouth and blew, producing a whistle so loud it hurt his own ears. 

The bullfinch fled to the lowest branch of the nearest tree from which it kept watching him, but did not dare challenge him with another chirp. 

“Yeah that’s what I thought!” Lupin hollered with glee. The bullfinch looked at him, turning its head this way and that the way birds do. Lupin had another taunt for it right at the tip of his tongue when something dawned on him. He turned back to the forest, then back to the bird. 

“You clever son of a bitch,” he murmured at it disbelievingly, “that’s brilliant. Jigen hates it when I whistle at him, but it carries well.”

The bird looked to the forest and back.

Lupin turned his head to the woods and let out another prolonged whistle. He waited. After a while he turned back to bird and said, “I joke about it, but Jigen is not stupid. He knows he has no sense of direction which is exactly why he would not have gone in any direction at random. He’d have hidden, observed where the police arrived from, then headed that way back to civilisation. Unless the police were absolutely everywhere and he had to stay hidden until their numbers eased up,” Lupin’s eyes grew more and more round as he realised that Jigen was more than likely walking back to the city by now and just waiting for someone to get back to the hotel and let him in. The thought lifted a weight from his shoulders he hadn’t realised was there. Damn Goemon for stressing him out over nothing. And speaking of Goemon, he’d pick him up from his wild goose chase before heading back. 

“Holy shit, bird! I’ll buy you so many seeds later!” Lupin shouted at it with a grin and waved goodbye. He threw himself into the car and off he went. Finding Goemon would be another round of finding a needle in a haystack sort of situation, but the moment had him so elevated he considered it a piece of cake. 

-

A loud smattering sounded all around. His surroundings were wet and soggy and water was seeping into his clothes. Jigen yawned and peered his eyes open, but couldn’t see anything on account of some sort of plastic sheet covering his face and preventing him from viewing his surroundings. He remained still while trying to recall what had happened. He seemed safe enough where he was, wherever that may be. He remembered the job and the President. He remembered foreign lands, and the feast- wait. Jigen shook his head and wracked his brain for memories that made sense, not ones that obviously stemmed from his dreams while he lay passed out for some reason. Try as he might he could not recall anything that could explain his current situation. And the smattering was just growing in volume, the sound of rain hitting the plastic that covered him. He subtly tried moving his arms and legs and found no resistance. He wasn’t wrapped up or tied down then, just covered. That was probably a good sign.

Jigen carefully turned his head to the left and extended his left arm. When he felt the edge of the plastic he grasped it and ever so slowly lifted it enough to see what was beyond. 

Not too far away stood a crowd of people, all busy and turned away from him. They were police officers, criminal detectives and so on. A few held umbrellas while the others hunched their shoulders and pulled their jackets as far up as they’d go. They were crowded around metal parts that lay on the ground, some machine or the like had been totalled. He recognised he was in the valley where the President had set up and dug for the idol. It was still dark out. 

He let go of the plastic and retracted his arm before turning his head to the right to repeat the process. On that side there was nobody around and he was closer to the edge of the valley. 

He could make a run for it. The dark would hide him and the rain would drown out the rustling of the plastic when he crawled out from underneath it. Jigen took another quick look to his left, the people were still preoccupied and distracted by the rain. He then smoothly gave the plastic tarp a gentle shove upwards with his right hand, it caught air and before it glided back down to the ground he’d rolled out into the open toward freedom. He rolled quickly to the path between two hills before getting up to continue his escape on his feet.

He had no idea where he was going, the rain disoriented him and patrolling police officers forced him to make random sudden turns to avoid detection. Where he ended up wasn’t his biggest concern though, he could stop and orient once he’d put a safe distance between himself and this place. 

His shoes squelched underneath him and his clothes clung to him. The only article of any use was his hat which kept the rain from hitting him in the face. 

Eventually Jigen happened upon the dirt path, the one they’d seen the beginning of by the small church. If he followed it and found the church all he’d have to do would be to walk straight through the woods to find the high road they’d arrived via, and then follow that back to the city. Piece of cake. He trudged on while staying vigilant. 

He reached the church without incident and let out a sigh of relief. There was one parked police car nearby it but no officers, they were all stationed among the hills behind him. He walked up to the church, briefly thinking that maybe he could squat in there until the rain stopped. How cocky would that be, the criminal taking a rest right under the police’s noses without them knowing it. 

But no, he had to get back to the hotel where he may or may not find his partners. It all depended on what exactly had happened, if he could just remember, they might’ve left it in favour of a more anonymous safe house. If they hadn’t already left the country entirely. 

Jigen mulled over what he’d do if that were the case and how to get in contact with them as he turned to the right of the church. He took a couple of steps before he stopped. He looked back at the church and the woods surrounding it. He looked to the left. 

“Where the fuck did we come from…” he muttered. 

Orientation had never been his strength much to his chagrin and Lupin’s eternal amusement. He looked at the parked police car. 

“That must’ve gotten here somehow,” he thought out loud and looked at the ground behind the car. It was barely visible anymore, the rain was doing a stellar job at washing the last traces away but he could make out faint impressions in the grass. Tracks of wheels having driven back and forth along the woods heading to the left. If he followed them he’d have to come across a road eventually. 

Jigen decided to do so as he felt it was unlikely anyone would come and get him. Each man for himself and all that, and even if he ended up in the next city over it was still a city from which he could plan his next course of action. So he stepped into the woods to the left of the church and started walking parallel to the edge of them. 

He walked in the dark weaving between the trees, ducking under low hanging branches and stepping over roots and rocks. The trees provided some shelter from the rain but the downpour had gotten aggressive enough that it combined with the darkness gave him trouble seeing his hands in front of him and every layer of his clothes were soaked through. 

“That damn idol better be worth a fortune,” he grumbled and trudged on his miserable trek. He’d be taking another vacation for sure after he’d ascertained the job was done. Maybe one of those six month cruise trips that go all around the world without ever setting foot ashore. Or he could hire a cabin in the American wilderness far away from people and try to catch Bigfoot.

Jigen kept his pace up and thought of every destination he could travel and all the things he could do, not noticing that he was deviating from his intended path and getting deeper into the woods. 

-

Lupin had driven back toward the city on the high road he’d arrived on, until he found a crossroad. There he took a left hoping the new road would circle around the entirety of the woods that surrounded the gravesite, head back on the other side along the river and take him back to the city. That way he’d be sandwiched on the road between the maintained pleasant gravesite woods and the genuine wilderness. The wilderness being where he’d led Goemon to believe Jigen would be. If he was lucky, Goemon might spot the car and come to him. Lupin would help of course, joyously honking all the way to attract the attention of anyone within hearing distance. 

Which he did, as he passed a road sign warning for moose. He was still honking as he drove by a car in the ditch, ignoring the man trying to wave him down for assistance. Not stopping for anything he swerved around the carcass of a run over fox and continued at the same speed even after he reached a part of the road no longer lit by streetlights. Still no sign of Goemon, and it was getting difficult to see the road now, even with the main beams on and the windscreen wipers at full speed. Lupin thought he heard thunder too. If this rainstorm developed any more than this he would have to forget Goemon and head back to wait for Jigen. 

Just as he thought so he came to another crossroads. All in all it had taken him about thirty minutes to get this far, the rain was getting too bad to drive in and he hadn’t seen anyone except for the man in the ditch. He sighed and took another left, better get back to the city as quickly as possible. 

Lupin looked to the left into the woods but could not spot anything in the dark though the sheets of water pouring down the window pane. He threw another look to the right but again saw nothing. Just for good measure he lay on the car horn for three long honks. It earned him the shine of the main beams from the car behind him reflected in his mirrors right into his eyes. His brows drew together and he squinted. The guy behind him did not turn his lights down. 

“Man it’s dark and it’s pouring, cut that crap out,” Lupin said out loud at the other driver. What kind of moron doesn’t turn his lights down after making his point anyway, doesn’t he know it’s dangerous? 

Lupin attempted to hold to the right to let the aggravated driver pass, but his rear bumped into something and he reflexively swerved back. He quickly threw his head around to check his blind spot, and sure enough there was another car out there on the roadside, trying to force itself right up next to him. 

“This is a single file road!” Lupin yelled in surprise and hit the gas. The two cars sped up as well and stayed right on his tail, one still blinding him with its lights and the other trying to force him off the road. The car slammed into his side once, twice and he lost traction. He was hydroplaning, with no control over neither his direction nor speed. 

In his pocket his phone buzzed and rang out its lighthearted tune. Lupin pulled it out without checking who the caller was. 

“Hello?!” He answered in a less than dignifying tone. 

“Lupin,” Fujiko’s serious voice said on the other end, “is this a good time?” The car behind him bumped his rear. 

“Fuji-cakes! For you, always,” Lupin said and made kissy-noises. 

“Listen Lupin. I meant to contact you earlier but I haven’t had a chance. I’m sorry,” she sounded so sincere for such a small inconvenience. So what if she called him later than he would’ve liked? She could’ve been the one to shoot the hole in his leg and he’d forgive her. She  _had_  shot him before, all water under the bridge. 

“Fujiko, babe, what’d’ya say that for?” Lupin cooed. 

Thunder rolled above him. It was so loud Lupin could feel it physically pushing through his body, echoing in his bones.

“Lupin… what do you mean?  _I’m sorry_ , okay?” she said with some impatience seeping through her restrained tone.

With a sudden flash and loud crash lightning struck ahead of the three cars. In that blink of an eye Lupin got his first clear view of the road in a long time. Way further ahead the road twisted in a sharp left turn around a rock, on the right side the river was illuminated. 

Fujiko’s voice sounded different from its usual self-assuredness as she said, “I tried to help, I did, but I wasn’t fast enough,” her voice trailed off at the end. She didn’t sound sad, but regretful. Like she actually was as sorry as she claimed to be. 

Lupin did not have time to ponder the meaning of her words or respond to her unusual vulnerability as a hailstorm of gunshots from somewhere behind peppered holes into his right side and smashed his side view mirror. 

“Fujiko, love of my life, I’m just gonna shake off these guys who picked me for target practise and I’ll call you back, alright?” He said in a rush. 

The darkness became absolutely impenetrable as he switched the main beams off. In his mind he did some quick calculations while the bullets continued to embed themselves all over the passenger door. 

“Can I reach you on this number?” Lupin asked and placed his phone between his ear and shoulder to free up his hand. 

“I don’t understand,” Fujiko said, now clearly angry, “this has been on my mind ever since yesterday and I never even liked him!”

Lupin grabbed the steering wheel with both hands to hold it tightly and position the wheels to point straight forward. He pressed down the clutch and waited until he could feel the wheels sink through the water and make contact with the road again. 

“‘Him’?” He asked. 

“Jigen!” She yelled under her breath. 

Lupin estimated the corner to be barely about a hundred meters ahead. The rear window was shattered by bullets and he ducked. 

“Yeah, he’s missing, I’m working on it,” if Fujiko knew they’d fucked up she would not be forgiving them anytime soon unless he could fix the situation real fast, Lupin thought and heaved a quiet sigh, “it won’t affect my plans or the job though, promise!” He finished in a faked cheery tone before making a sudden hard left turn. 

In the insufficient light of the headlights a shape suddenly appeared on the road before him just as he rounded the corner. Something heavy and moderately sized was hit and thrown onto his hood, slammed into his windscreen and cracking it before bouncing off. 

“He’s missing-?” Fujiko began to say. 

“SHIT!” Lupin cut her off, “I think I just hit someone! Fuji-babe I’ll call you back, I promise!” With a touch he hung up and let the phone fall down to his feet. Hopefully the shape hadn’t been that guy in the ditch he’d snubbed for help earlier, he’d feel really bad if this was the way he continuously treated him. 

Lupin startled when he realised that there were no longer mains beams being shone into his eyes. That meant the cars chasing him were no longer behind him. He looked in the rear view mirror. 

It was hard to make anything out for certain, but he was confident his plan had worked out the way he’d anticipated. As soon as lightning had lit up the road and revealed the curve to him he had known how to escape. The chasers had been totally focused on him and not been paying attention to the road and therefore not known about the sudden curve. In these conditions and at the speed they were going they had had no way of detecting it in time either, and so when Lupin suddenly turned he had left his pursuers going straight forward. The result was that they crashed into each other briefly before driving off the road completely. 

At least, since that was what he had counted on to happen and they were indeed gone, he assumed it had worked out that way. However, he could not be one hundred percent sure, so he stepped on the gas in case one of them picked up the chase again and soon he entered the city surfing on tiny waves. 

The rain gradually let up while Lupin followed the river through the city until he reached a parking lot right next to it. He turned into it and parked by some broad stairs chopped into the rock wall that separated the river from the ground, not bothering to close the door behind him. He walked down the steps, careful not to slip on the wet rock surface. The last step was underwater by some, the result of the heavy rainfall. He crouched and pulled his cigarettes and lighter out. He hadn’t been followed, both of the cars had run out of luck and gone straight off the road, no doubt so fast not even the safety railing had saved them. 

Lupin puffed on his cigarette. He had no doubt it had been the President’s men in those cars that attacked him. They couldn’t have known where and when to find him, so this attack wasn’t planned. They should still be safe at the hotel then, at least for a short time. 

Lupin had only planned on taking a short break to make absolutely certain no one was following him before heading back to the hotel, but found the purling noise and glittering movements of the river to be soothing enough to stay for a little while longer. 

His smoked his cigarette and pulled out a new one, and another one after that. The river surged past, he smoked, and the skies brightened. 

When the first bus of the morning drove over the bridge further up the river he put the rest of his last cigarette out on the rocky steps and stood up. Soon people would start their day, filling the streets on their way to work and school. He better be gone before anyone saw the shape his car was in. 

Lupin turned his body to walk back up the steps but kept gazing over the water. It was as dark as the night had been but not as threatening, and much more alluring. He turned and walked up to the car. Before seating himself he walked around it to asses the damage. It hadn’t stopped or made strange noises at any point so most of the damage was just superficial. He poked his fingers through the holes the bullets had made and picked off whatever small shards that were left of the mirror. He should definitively get it out of the way before civilians saw it. 

Lupin straightened up and rested both his hands on the hood and leaned heavily on it. It was dented and bent awkwardly inwards. It reminded him of the poor fellow he’d hit, that man most likely hadn’t made it. He felt guilty about it even though it had been an honest accident. He hung his head in a moment of silence before picking himself back up. His gaze landed on the river again. Or rather, it landed on a moving spot on the river that did not glitter like the rest of it. 

Lupin walked around the car and closer to the edge. It was a dull spot that slowly floated past, just as black as the water itself but distinctly different. Like a large piece of cloth had been dropped in. In a slight drop in the river it disappeared under the water for a few seconds. Lupin waited for it to reappear. When it did more of it floated to the surface than before, it looked like a whole jacket. Then pants appeared, curiously perfectly placed underneath the jacket as if someone were wearing the articles. 

A bolt ran through Lupin’s brain when he realised that there was a body in those clothes. His own body was way ahead of his brain, already having leapt off the edge into the shockingly cold water before he realised it. He broke through the surface still grappling with what he’d seen, almost unaware that he was swimming towards the other. 

_I_ _t looked like_ _Jigen’s face_ _,_  he involuntarily thought. 

That couldn’t be right, it must’ve been the other man, the one he’d hit whose body had been thrown over his car and onto one of his pursuers’, and when they crashed they disposed of it in the river. 

Reaching the body was a simple task as he was swimming downstream until he could grab it under the arms and around the chest. He steadfastly refrained from looking at the face. 

“It’s not Jigen,” he panted out loud as he turned to fight the stream back to the steps. 

He made it back even though he only had one arm and one healthy leg to use. Panting heavily, he heaved the body up onto the lowest slightly submerged step, still ignoring it as well as he could, before pulling himself up. Once out of the water he took a few deep breaths before slowly looking over at the face. 

If he hadn’t been so cold already he surely would’ve felt the icy dread spreading all thorough his body. Lupin stopped breathing, he could do nothing but stare. It was him, it was Jigen. 

No more than a second or two passed before he sprung into action, but during that short time he felt like the world stood still for an eternity. He really was looking at the face of his partner, the very one he’d been so sure was alive and well he’d gone looking for him before deciding that he must have returned on his own and gone back to greet him.  _Well, he did return on his own_ , an unhelpful thought chimed in. 

Lupin pushed his thoughts and feelings aside and hastily grabbed Jigen under the arms to drag him up the steps and lay him onto the flat ground. He didn’t know what had happened to him or how long he’d been in the water, although he feared he had a clue, but as he straddled Jigen’s waist none of that mattered. Lupin laid one hand on top of the other and laced his fingers together before placing them in the middle of Jigen’s chest and pushing, putting all his weight into it. He repeated the motion rapidly thirty times, each time he snapped back up he saw droplets of water fall in slow motion from his hair, face, and clothes, catching the last of the moon’s rays and glimmering like stars. He finished the first round of compressions and in one fluid motion grabbed Jigen’s head with one hand to tilt it back, the other pinching his nose as he bent over him and forced two breaths down his throat. 

As Lupin straightened up for the second round of compressions his eyes went to Jigen’s lips. They were an awful shade of blue and had been icy to the touch. 

Lupin took a deep breath and held it as he started over again. He focused on his own hands instead, they way his knuckles were turning white from how hard his grip was, the rhythmic movement of them pushing at Jigen’s chest. Lupin finished the compressions and gave Jigen two more breaths. Jigen still lay unresponsive, his body prone underneath him as he began round three. 

Somewhere around compression twenty he heard a faint crack, and felt it underneath his hands as well. He had pushed too hard and broken one or more of Jigen’s ribs. 

“You will forgive me,” Lupin said between strained breaths, “I’m sure you’d rather live with broken ribs than be dead,” he continued with the same roughness as before knowing that his words were true. He thought about everything he and Jigen had been through together, how many life or death situations, how many close calls they’d thought were real. Every time they’d pushed through. Every single time they’d come out on top, if not with their dignity or treasure then at least with their lives. And as long as they still had their lives, life would go on and present them with new opportunities. 

Lupin heard another bus drive by over the bridge. He had been at it for at least fifteen minutes still without results and had long ago lost count of which round of compressions he was on. He couldn’t do this on his own, Jigen was too far gone, he needed professional help. Help that Lupin could not call for him. For once he was in a place where he did not have a plan B, no I-owe-you’s to call in. Even if he did, once compressions have been started they are not supposed to be interrupted until the victim started breathing again, which Jigen did not. 

“Breathe,” Lupin urged, “ _breathe!_ ” 

Jigen remained still. 

“ _Jigen!”_  Lupin cried weakly. His throat constricted and he struggled to suck in an uneven breath as he slowed down the compressions little by little until he was merely resting his shaking hands on top of Jigen’s chest. Lupin sank down until he sat on Jigen’s hips and suppressed a sob. He hung his head and clenched his teeth. His fingertips pressed into Jigen’s chest, almost scratching in a desperate attempt to feel any amount of heat radiating from his body, but Jigen was long since cold to the touch.

Lupin slowly breathed through the next two sobs but could not keep the last one from escaping his lips. Hearing his own ugly cries somehow made everything even worse, as if the fact that someone was grieving Jigen, even if it were himself, made it more real that he was gone. Lupin fell forward and softly rested his forehead between his hands. 

Unaware of the passage of time Lupin stayed bent over his partner’s form until his sobs subsided and his breaths came easier. At some point his phone rang from its position on the floor in the car. 

Eventually Lupin lifted his head to look at the face of his long time partner. Jigen’s head was still in a slightly tilted position and his lips were parted. His long wet hair lay plastered to his face, covering both his eyes.  _Fitting_ , Lupin thought,  _he_ _never_ _did_ _like_ _to let people look him in the eyes for too long_. Lupin reached a hand up and brushed the hair away. He cupped Jigen’s cheek and let his thumb tenderly run over his features. 

His phone rang again. He ignored it until it stopped. His thumb brushed over Jigen’s eyelashes. A minute later it rang again, the tone irritating enough to make Lupin tear his hands off of Jigen to stand up and go get it. 

Assuming it was Fujiko calling him since he never called her back like he’d promised Lupin cleared his throat before he answered. It would not be easy to sound normal. Should he try to sound normal? 

“Hello-“

“LUPIN!” The voice of Zenigata yelled in his ear. Lupin flinched and instinctively held the phone away from his face, a grimace pulling at the corners of his mouth. When he did not hear any other loud noises he brought it back to his ear. 

“Pops?” He asked, the question obvious in his voice, “how did you get my number?”

“A forensic scientist grabbed this phone from the pocket of one of the corpses in Old Town when it rang, and the number that called is yours! I know you’re involved! Stay where you are while we track the signal, I’m coming to get you!”

“One of the corpses?” Lupin took his phone from his ear to look at the screen. In large letters Jigen’s name took up most of the space on the upper half of the screen, telling him that the call had been made from Jigen’s phone. Eyes wide in terror he looked over at Jigen. The body of his partner lay exactly as he had left it. 

“What is going on,” Lupin whispered, “did the President take him just to dump him?” It didn’t make any sense. If Jigen had died at the ancient burial grounds that morning, that meant he had been one of the bodies under the plastic tarps. But when Lupin went back there, there were no signs that the Swedish police were looking for a missing body. Yet, if Jigen’s phone had been plucked from a body, it must’ve been Jigen himself. But then he had somehow ended up in the river within a very short timespan. None of it readily presented a logical explanation to him.

Lupin was still looking in Jigen’s direction but his eyes were distant and the gears in his head were turning. Zenigata talked but Lupin didn’t hear him, “what, Pops?” He asked when his consciousness returned to the present. 

“I said, and now the corpse is gone! You can explain yourself later when I arrest you!”

“Pops, trust me when I say I know as little as you do. Call me if you find anything out, you have my number,” 

“Do not hang up! Lupin!” 

“Listen Pops, I don’t have time for this,” Lupin looked away from Jigen’s body as he spoke. Although this new nonsensical information did take his mind off of recent events, looking at the proof that it all was real and not a horrible dream threatened to reduce him back to tears. He took a breath to bid Zenigata goodbye when a woman screamed on the street across from the parking lot. 

Lupin turned his head in time to see the woman looking at him and then at Jigen before turning around and running away from him as fast as she could. 

“I heard a woman scream!” Zenigata shouted through the phone, “what are you up to!?” 

“Aw hell,” Lupin said, “goodbye Pops,” he ended the call and turned his phone off. 

He had forgot about the approaching morning and the people it brought. A sopping wet man next to a bullet ridden car making a phone call over the body of a drowned man would make anyone look culpable. 

There was no more time to idle away. 

-

He looked paler than Lupin had ever seen him before. At his palest, he had once almost been the same shade as Lupin. Now Lupin had more colour than him. And of course, his lips were still that horrible shade of blue. On the ride that had broken many traffic laws back to the hotel Jigen’s clothes and hair had dried a little, making him almost look normal where he lay on the only bed of their shared hotel room. Lupin had seen him just like this innumerable times before, napping on a couch or bed fully dressed. The familiarity combined with the knowledge that this time nothing would ever be what it used to be jarred him. 

Lupin contemplated pulling a sheet over him but decided against it. The initial shock he’d felt by the river had mostly worn off and been replaced with a simmering rage. The grief still felt the same, as he suspected it would for some time. 

Lupin placed his own hand on top of Jigen’s that lay resting on the bed and leaned forward. Well within Jigen’s personal space he stopped mere centimetres away from his face, “I’m sorry I abandoned you,” he spoke quietly, “this is my fault and I’m sure you’ll kick my ass over it when it’s my turn to kick the bucket,” a small huff that did not quite qualify as a laugh escaped him. He looked over every detail of Jigen’s face. He’d have to memorise it now as he wouldn’t get many more chances to see it face to face. The sadness and anger washed over him in waves, competing for his attention. 

“I will get them for you,” Lupin promised with vehemence “I swear it, I’ll get them all in your honour.”

As soon as he’d said it it was true. None of those involved, especially the President himself, would be spared. An idea came to him then; not only would he get them for Jigen but he’d get them with Jigen’s own Walther, that would really send them the message that their demise was their own doing. Lupin let go of Jigen’s hand to push at his hip, slightly turning him on his side to reach under him for the gun. It wasn’t there. Not securely tucked into the back of his pants like Lupin had expected, he eased Jigen back into a comfortable position before patting him down. He still came up short but instead found a number of holes in his clothes. One over the lapel of his jacket and one in his shirt over the chest that matched up perfectly, and another one on the right side over his abdomen. The holes confused Lupin, not because he didn’t know what had caused them, but because there were no wounds under the clothes on Jigen’s body that matched the holes. 

His fingers ran up and down Jigen’s torso, back and forth between the torn up points in the fabric in search for answers. Too many strange things had happened recently that he could not explain. It frustrated him beyond belief and urged him on to find the answers. But he had no idea where to look. Lupin continuously roamed his hands over the damp layers of fabric, catching tiny threads and pulling, sticking his fingers through the holes, fiddling with the buttons. Before he knew it he’d unbuttoned the shirt and was obsessively poking and rubbing at skin. 

He didn’t realise what he had done until he felt short soft hairs stroking against the side of his hand. Lupin jerked his hands back where he stood hunched over Jigen. There were no marks on his body, nothing to clue Lupin in on what had ultimately caused his partner’s demise. Tentatively lupin placed his right hand back on Jigen’s chest and moved it until he found what he was looking for. Two ribs were broken, snapped at Lupin’s own hands. That was it. 

A headache crept from the back of his skull towards the front. There was no point in standing around and feeling sorry. Lupin rubbed at his forehead before pulling Jigen’s shirt closed over his chest again, haphazardly doing up a few buttons, some of them ending up in the wrong hole and leaving gaps. He left the bedroom to go feel sorry in the living room instead and smoke cigarettes by the open window, and maybe after that try to do some thinking. 

A footrest was placed under the window so he wouldn’t have to stand. He proceeded to finish the cigarettes that were left in his pack while thinking every minute of the last twenty four hours through without gleaning an ounce of understanding. When the last little stump of his final cigarette burned out he flicked it away. No conclusions had been reached except that if he’d listened to Goemon and let him go back to the site immediately maybe this could’ve been avoided.  _What a mess_. He placed a hand on the window and closed it. Then he changed his mind and opened it again, whistled, and closed it. The window was locked in the same moment as the front door was opened and Goemon stepped in. 

“I am already back, no need to call for me,” he said as he took in Lupin’s haggard state, “you were caught in the rain as well,” Goemon stated and nodded at Lupin’s still wet clothes that matched his own soggy ones. Apart from being wet, traces of Goemon’s whereabouts were stuck all over him, crushed leaves and fir-needles covered his feet and legs, a small twig was even caught in his hair. 

Lupin did not comment nor move, he just looked drained. Goemon shifted his weight uneasily and nervously swallowed, the atmosphere in the room was heavy and oppressive and he felt insecure in his own abilities to address the issue in a delicate way. Dealing with Lupin’s moods could be like heading out into enemy territory, it was a better idea not to but if it had to be done, proceed with caution. 

“I take it you have bad news. Jigen? Or Fujiko?” Goemon gently spoke. 

Lupin’s face stayed mostly emotionless but for a brief flash of anger that passed as quickly as it’d come, “he’s in there,” he mumbled and nodded at the closed bedroom door. 

Goemon looked to the door. Jigen was back, but it inspired no joy in their normally optimistic partner. It might mean they’d simply had an argument, possibly over Fujiko, meaning this would soon pass, or it might mean something about the condition Lupin had found Jigen in. Goemon walked to the door and slowly pushed it open. He stood in the doorway for a moment before quietly slipping inside, closing the door behind him. 

The door closed with a soft click. Goemon’s hand rested on the handle while he tried to read the picture presented in front of him. Jigen lay on the bed on his back, as wet as the rest of them, shirt halfway undone and snoring softly. Goemon stepped closer to observe what he might’ve missed from a distance. Jigen’s clothes were rumpled and in disarray, his hair tangled and he was obviously exhausted. No particular injuries stood out to him. No cuts or bruises, no blood, no bandages wrapped too tightly around limbs. Goemon found no reason to worry about his physical state and concluded that the conflict lay in words exchanged rather than in the flesh. He quietly padded out to the living room where Lupin had sat down on the sofa.

“What happened?” Goemon asked him. 

“I don’t know.”

“There is no one but you who could know. Did you fight?”

“I don’t always have all the answers! I’ve tried thinking about it but I cannot get the sequence of events straight. It doesn’t make any sense,” Lupin held his hands up to either side of his head and shook them, his fingers twitching like he wanted to grab onto his own hair and pull but was restraining himself. After a moment he added, “fight? Who, me and Jigen?”

“Who else.”

Lupin looked at Goemon like he’d grown an extra head, “how could we have fought,” he asked incredulously, “did you not just see him?”

“You mean he was in that state when you found him?”

“What _other_ state could he have been in?” Lupin exhaled, disbelieving what he was hearing. What in the world was Goemon on about? 

The two of them looked at the other not sure what part of the conversation had been miscommunicated so badly they’d ended up here.

“I cannot help but feel that you and I have different perceptions of reality at this moment,” Goemon diplomatically said after a long silence, “would you please take another look into the bedroom so as to allow us to understand each other,” he said. 

For once Lupin did as he was told without objections. He walked over to the bedroom door, glanced once over his shoulder to make sure Goemon was watching, and opened the door wide. Goemon walked over to stand by his side. They looked at Jigen’s resting form, now having turned himself on his side, still snoring and wet but otherwise sleeping peacefully. Goemon exhaled through his nose, confident that he had not said anything wrong before and that things could be cleared up now. He turned his body toward Lupin so that they might converse quietly without disturbing Jigen. The words halted when he observed the look on Lupin’s face. 

He looked like he’d seen a ghost, his body language rigid and face conveying horror and incomprehension. Rather than speak, Goemon expressed his own confusion through his eyes and grabbed Lupin’s wrist to ground him. Lupin shook his hand off only to grab Goemon’s wrist in turn and pull him along into the room right up next to the bed. There he let him go and instead held it in the air over Jigen’s mouth. Light puffs of air warmed his fingers with each exhale, those vital breaths he’d so desperately attempted to coax out of him earlier. 

Four snores later Goemon grabbed his arm again and pulled him out of the room. 

“Lupin, what is wrong?”

Lupin looked at him, still clearly shaken, but coming back around, “nothing,” he said, “absolutely nothing anymore,” he was slowly shaking his head and starting to smile. The smile grew big and was accompanied by an airy laugh. Then the laughter grew until he was laughing so hard he had to sit down.

Goemon seated himself next to him on the sofa, “would you care to explain to me what state you thought he was in before, and why that makes this so funny?” he asked. 

“Goe it’s nothing, I just thought he was-,” he looked for the right word, “hurt,” he settled on, “and I thought he might never be the same again. But he will, I’m sure of that now.”

Goemon looked unconvinced but let the subject drop. Whatever Lupin has thought himself see that might’ve changed Jigen forever was clearly gone from his mind now. He chose to instead try to pry information about their fourth gang member from him. 

“Then I hate to have to repeat myself but you leave me no choice. Did you or did you not get ahold of Fujiko?”

Lupin calmed down with a hand to his chest before replying, “I did. She knows we fucked up and that we misplaced our Mr Guns a-Blazin’, but I was in the middle of this thing and had to call her back. Which I never did because then I was in the middle of another thing. I should turn my phone back on.” 

“You should,” Goemon agreed. 

Lupin pulled his phone from his pocket and powered it on. Five seconds after it started up the notifications bombarded him with messages about missed calls, all from two specific numbers. As he waited for the phone to finish alerting him about every single call he’d gotten, they were already on notification seventeen, it rang again, “speak of the devil,” Lupin said to Goemon with a wink and accepted the call. 

“Babe,”

“You son of a bitch!”

“ _Babe_ ,”

“Shut it! How come of the two of us I’m the only one taking this seriously? The President’s men recently reported they hit Jigen with their car! They dumped him in the river! Which might not be so bad if it weren’t for  _one little thing_. Do you have any idea what that is, Lupin?” 

“I couldn’t possibly begin to guess, honey-bee,”

“He was already dead! I saw the President shoot his brains out with my own eyes, what the fuck is going on?!” She shrieked.

The sentence sobered him up, “already dead?” He lamely asked. 

“That’s what I tried to tell you before when you hung up on me! I saw them kick his teeth in and break his bones, it was brutal,” she recalled.

Lupin’s mind wandered over to the bedroom where Jigen lay sleeping safe and sound. If he really listened he could even hear his snores sneaking through the ajar door, “wha- how could you’ve seen it?” 

“Lupin listen to me; Jigen is dead. Are you not upset at all by that? It’s not like I liked the man but this is pretty major,” she paused and sounds indicating she was on the move came through the speakers. When she spoke again it was in hushed tones, “I can’t talk right now. Keep your phone on, doofus!” The call ended. 

Lupin dumbly looked at the phone a few seconds before putting it down. He looked at Goemon who expectantly was looking back at him. 

“Do you think the hotel serves coffee this early, or do we have to wait?” Lupin asked. 

-

The hotel did serve coffee on request, as it turned out. After Lupin persuaded Goemon to get him a cup they sat down on the sofa once again. A long sip dulled the headache that had settled behind his eyes and warmed him from the inside out, he sighed and braced for the conversation they were about to have. 

“You already know I took this job on Fujiko’s request,” Lupin said and Goemon nodded at the statement, “she’s the one who’s been sending me intel about the place, dates, etcetera. When she called me just now it was to inform me that the President’s men had run Jigen over and thrown him in the river.”

Goemon lifted his head slightly at the enlightening information, “you found him in the river, and thought he had drowned. Hence why you were both soaked even though you went in the car, and why we disagreed on his state of being,” Goemon placed a hand on Lupin’s shoulder, “I can see now why you were upset. It was a heavy burden for you to carry.”

Lupin couldn’t help but laugh quietly at Goemon’s unique brand of consolation. The way he acknowledged pain and validated it in a much more mature way than Lupin had learned to master yet, like a loving but awkward parental figure. There was no denying it helped though. 

“I thought he’d stopped breathing, yeah,” Lupin agreed and took another sip. Jigen  _had_  stopped breathing, of that Lupin was sure, but now he was again, so really there was nothing to gain in trying to convince Goemon that Jigen had been dead. 

“Seeing as how this might have been avoided if we had known about the situation we headed into,” Goemon said and received a hard sideways glance from Lupin, “I believe I speak for everyone when I say you should refrain from keeping secrets to yourself. Secrets are after all meant to be shared.”

“You sly bastard,” Lupin smiled into his cup, not missing the subtle smirk on Goemon’s face, “alright,” he said and told the story of how Fujiko had called him in for a favour. When he was done Goemon looked thoughtful.

“She wanted you to keep the President from getting the idol before she did? I was under the impression she was working for him,” Goemon said.

“Why would you think that?”

“I may have a secret to share of my own,” Goemon cleared his throat and blushed, “Fujiko is not as far away as you think. She is in fact in the midst of this tangle, even more involved than yourself.” Lupin just looked at him. 

“So,” Lupin drew the syllable out, “where is she?”

“From the looks of it she is with the President, acting as his right hand perhaps, or using her charms to get close in- eh, other ways,” Goemon struggled to put the suggestion forward to Lupin’s face even though Fujiko’s preferred method of infiltration was common knowledge. Lupin did not appear bothered by it though, but rather confused. 

“And what makes you think that? Have you seen her?” He asked. 

“Well, not her face but nonetheless it was unmistakably her. She was the watchman,” Goemon finally confessed what he had known and kept secret for an entire day. In response Lupin just grinned his wide borderline maniacal smile at him until Goemon asked, “you are not upset?” Wether he was asking if Lupin was upset that he’d kept Fujiko’s proximity a secret, or upset that she possibly was with the President he wasn’t sure, but he felt compelled to ask either way. 

“Don’t you see? She is pretending to be working for him, she knows the value of the idol and made her own plans to steal it from him using us! God, she’s so smart,” Lupin dreamily said. A displeased expression settled on his face, and  made Goemon want to point out that if that were the case then her plans were to blame for Jigen’s accident, but refrained. No point in poking a sleeping bear. 

-

Jigen was awakened by hushed voices. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He was laying on a bed, in a room, not tied up or drugged. He recognised the hotel room they’d rented, a clear step up from his last awakening but still an enigma as he could not recall how he got here. He had been in the woods walking away from the burial grounds and the police surrounding them, it had been raining and that was as much as he could remember. He threw an arm over his eyes and groaned in frustration, and then groaned again in disgust at his half dried musty smelling jacket. Now that he was aware of it he noticed that all his clothes were grossly damp and cold. He sat up on the edge of the bed and pulled the jacket off before working on his shirt buttons. 

“Was I drunk when I put this shirt on or what,” he mumbled at the mismatched buttons fastened in the wrong holes. He stripped down to his underwear and pulled a pair of sweatpants out of his bag that had been tucked away into the corner when they arrived earlier. 

The voices grew from a low murmur to intelligible words as he approached the door. He opened it and saw Lupin and Goemon on the couch conversing and he smelled the aroma of coffee. Before entering the room he weighed wether or not to acknowledge his own amnesia. Maybe he was just tired and it’d come back to him soon, in which case he didn’t want to bring it up and look like an asshole. On the other hand maybe there was a reason behind his bouts of forgetfulness, and if the others knew of them and the cause behind them and he pretended to be normal they’d know he was acting. And he’d look like an asshole. 

Jigen sighed and rolled his shoulders. Whatever, he’d just have to play it by ear. He entered the room as casually as he could and walked up to the sofa on Lupin’s side. Goemon noticed him approaching and gave him a nod in greeting which made Lupin turn his head to look at him as well. 

“You got any more coffee?” Jigen asked.

“Take mine,” Lupin was quick to offer as he stood up and stepped in way too close to shove the cup into Jigen’s hands. Jigen took the half full cup from him. 

“Hm, it’s white,” Jigen hummed in disapproval. 

“Yeah, Goemon got it right this time,” Lupin answered breathily, staring. The distance between them was so small Jigen almost brushed the tip of Lupin’s nose with the bottom of the mug when he tilted it to drink. Standing so close brought a memory of a dream to the front of his mind. 

“I had a strange dream, I was hit by a car and you kissed me,” Jigen mentioned conversationally. 

“I kissed you?” Lupin asked and it was like he was back by the river all over again. He looked at Jigen’s lips and remembered how cold they’d been, how awfully discoloured from their normal deep shade that had now settled back in. So Jigen remembered being hit and the CPR Lupin had given him, but not clearly enough to know it had been real. It truly was a god dam miracle that the man was even standing on his own two legs. 

“I’m afraid the car collision wasn’t a dream, you were attacked by the President’s men and disposed of in the river before Lupin found you,” Goemon told Jigen. 

“Is that so? Huh, that’s why I can’t remember a damn thing after I found the road,” Jigen said sounding slightly taken aback by the news but also feeling reassured that there was nothing wrong with his brain, other than some probable blunt force trauma resulting in memory blanks. 

“You don’t remember the attack?”

“No like I said; I thought I’d dreamt it up,” Jigen pondered for a moment. If he’d really been hit, that couldn’t mean… he suspiciously looked at Lupin over the rim of the cup. 

The look he received brought Lupin out of his thoughts, and he added on to Jigen’s initial statement, “I mean, if you really want to, I’m game,” Lupin waggled his eyebrows as he leaned in, hands rising to Jigen’s head where they each grabbed fistfuls of hair. 

“Hm?” Jigen hummed before understanding Lupin’s intentions, “no,” he then said and planted a flat palm firmly on Lupin’s face and pushed him back. Lupin’s head followed the motion as far back as his neck would bend but he did not let go of Jigen’s hair. They stood like that, one pulling and the other pushing, until they both mutually softened their grip on the other. Jigen let his hand fall and drank Lupin’s coffee. Lupin left his hands in Jigen’s hair although he was no longer pulling at it, he was merely holding the strands. The hair moved between his fingers smoothly like silky sheets, transfixing him. Lupin combed his left hand through the hair until it rested snugly against Jigen’s skull, the right hand he let fall down to Jigen’s jaw. There he ran his fingers through the shorter hairs of his beard, it was much thicker and coarser. And from this distance he could smell the river dried into it. It was not necessarily a bad smell, and it reminded him of those oils Fujiko put in her hair that made her smell really good, what were they called…  _argan_   _oil_ _,_  his brain reminded him. Yes, that, he’d get Jigen some of that for his beard and maybe it’d even cover up the smell of those disgusting cigarettes he chose to smoke. 

Jigen resigned himself to the intense treatment with a bored expression on his face, whenever Lupin got it into his head that he wanted to do something it was always easier to just let him do it. As long as he could still drink the coffee without interference he could keep his cool. Jigen looked at Goemon, who seemed as unsurprised as Jigen by Lupin’s affectionate ministrations. At least it felt nice, the caresses as well as the knowledge that he’d been missed. He noticed a twig and a leaf in Goemon’s hair and when he looked down at his clothes there were more. 

“What’ve you been up to?” Jigen said to Goemon with a quirked eyebrow. 

“You were gone for a long time, so I scoured the woods in search for you,” Goemon answered matter of factly.  

“Sorry to be a bother,” Jigen said with embarrassment clear in his voice. Pampering to a certain degree was nice, but needing to be found like a lost child was just unprofessional. 

“Not at all,” Goemon assured him with an understanding look.

“Are you done yet?” Jigen said gruffly to Lupin. Trust Goemon to never be one to judge, but Jigen was starting to feel claustrophobic between the attention of the two of them.

“Yeah, sure,” Lupin’s eyes rose from their intense focus on his beard to his eyes. He lowered his left hand until it too rested on Jigen’s jaw and gave it a few pats before both his hands fell down to Jigen’s shoulders. 

“How’re your ribs though?” Lupin asked him. Jigen hadn’t noticed anything in particular. Was there supposed to be something wrong with his ribs? He looked down at his own bare chest but could not see any glaringly obvious wounds. 

“There’s nothing wrong with my ribs?” 

“Your ribs,” Lupin insisted with a poke to his right side ribcage. It felt just like a regular poke, and Jigen wasn’t ticklish either so he merely stood still without much of a reaction. Lupin’s brows twitched and he poked Jigen again, this time a little harder.

_Why are you like this_ , Jigen thought, and meant to say out loud as well but his patience was running low. He was confused, hungry, tired, and drinking diluted coffee so all he said was a simple, “why?” With a shrug of his shoulders he pushed Lupin to the side to sit down. 

Jigen plopped down next to Goemon and left Lupin blinking owlishly. Who knew what was going on in that guys head half the time. Maybe there was something to that saying about geniuses also having to be a bit loony. He turned to Goemon in search for some normal interaction, “anyway kiddo, how’s the championship title suit ya?”

“I don’t understand your American references.”

“The black eye, how’d ya get it?”

Goemon looked away and reluctantly answered, “Fujiko.”

Jigen just about stopped himself in time from spitting the last mouthful of coffee out by forcefully swallowing it, “what!” He wheezed and flew back up on his legs to face Lupin, ” _she_ _’s_  involved!?”

“Ay-ai-ai! Goe, how about some subtlety?” Lupin cowered behind his raised hands.

“I thought we reached the agreement that there would be no more secrets,” Goemon calmly said. 

“You’re damn right there’ll be no more secrets!” Jigen yelled and pinched Lupin’s ear between his thumb and forefinger, pulling at it upwards.

“Ai, Jigen!” Lupin shouted wide-eyed.

“Are you working with her? Are  _we_  working with her?”

“No, no!”

“Lupin!”

“No! I swear it, or my middle name is not Fidel!”

“Your middle name isn’t Fidel!”

“It’s just a saying,” Lupin weakly said and pleaded Jigen to release him with his eyes. 

“In his defence, he did take the job from her without knowing she’d be one of the actors on the stage,” Goemon offered from his safe spot on the sofa. 

“Not helpful, Goemon,” Lupin glared. 

“I thought you just said you weren’t working with her, which is it?” The fingers pinching Lupin’s ear gave another yank. 

“Well, technically we’re working  _for_  her, not  _with_  her,” after Lupin finished the sentence his ear was released. 

“And that makes all the difference, huh? God,” Jigen huffed in frustration. He’d known something had been off, ever since before they even arrived. The reason they suddenly had interrupted their vacation and gone north was the doing of the same pair of eyelashes as always. Lupin just never learned. 

Jigen hung his head into his hands and massaged his temples. Lupin rubbed at his sore ear with a pout, and Goemon sat in silence. 

“I need to work on finding the President before he finds us,” Lupin said after a minute, “so get out, go buy something nice and calm down. Maybe a beard oil.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lupin talking to Jigen’s dead body:   
> IM GONNA FIGHT THEM ALL A SEVEN NATION ARMY COULD'NT HOLD ME BACK 
> 
> (The joke at the very end when Lupin claims his middle name is Fidel goes like this:   
> Lupin has french ancestry > the french word fidéle means loyal/faithful > it's pronounced Fidel >he's asking Jigen to believe him  
> is that totally awful or am I good?)

**Author's Note:**

> gosh.


End file.
